Hatred
by callmebobbie
Summary: "If this is what we're suspecting," Harry ground out, "if these hateful bastards are expanding their operations from mainland Europe to British soil," he caught the eye of each of his team, "then we stop them." Section D hopes the key to shutting down a violent hate group can be found in the midst of the enemy. Rated T for language.
1. Prologue

**Woo hoo! My first multi-chapter fanfic!**

**I was extremely chuffed at the positive reviews I received for my one-shot 'Nothing' – thank you everyone who took the time to review! **

**I like to imagine this story as an episode, something that would nicely slide into season eight, between episodes two and three. Episode 2.5, if you will. Of course, after I started writing away, I rewatched the relevant episodes and realised that my timeline was a little off and in this story Ruth is back on the Grid earlier than she is in the series (episode 3). I beg forgiveness. **

**Without further ado, the Prologue!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, just playing 'round…**

* * *

**Hatred: A Spooks FanFic **

**Prologue**

The haunting notes of the Smiths softly filled the Spartan office. Slouched down in his old office chair, rescued from his wife's zealous efforts to de-bachelorise his house, the young man stared unblinking at the glowing laptop screen. He took another pull from the bottle in his hand. It had been there for some time, growing warm and sticky. He suddenly let out of soft moan and slumped forward, cradling his head in his hands. The message on the screen didn't change with the noise or the movement.

He stared resentfully at the screen again.

The message hadn't changed in the twenty-four minutes since it had been opened.

_The prince is riding. Snow White has awoken._


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: I was advised by my non-Dutch husband to include a pronunciation guide for you, my wonderful readers. I concurred, after he attempted to read out loud some of the names. I had no idea the lovely names I've included in here could be mangled so efficiently. So this guide is dedicated to my Sun and Stars. Thanks, dear.**

**Dijkstra: Dyke-strah**

**Anneke: Ahn-i-keh**

**Van Leeuwen: van loo-wen**

**Pieter: Pee-et-ter**

* * *

**Chapter One**

A woman's shriek filled the early morning air. To any other family in the neighbourhood this would mean a disaster of some sort, but to the Dijkstra family, it meant only that the lady of the house was in the vicinity. Unfazed, Anneke van Leeuwen turned to her cousin Pete, sitting at the kitchen bar and asked, "Coffee?"

"Please," Pete replied. He didn't look up from the newspaper as he held up his empty mug. Leaning over and grabbing the mug, Anneke tucked a lock of ash blonde hair behind one ear and peered at the paper upside down.

"Anything going on the world?"

"Bloody human rights're going t'bloody destroy this country," Pete growled.

His cousin raised an eyebrow. "Oh, ya?"

"Oh, ya," Pete mimicked her accent. "Soon enough I won't even b'able ta walk around my own bloody home naked."

"Good grief, Pete. I'd be calling the police on you if you were walking around naked. And investing in eye bleach."

Pete finally looked up and scowled at her. She grinned as she handed his coffee to him. Before he could retort, his younger half-brother Steve slumped into the kitchen, aiming for the fridge.

"Good morning, Steven!" Anneke chirped overenthusiastically at the nineteen year old. Steve did not disappoint and replied with a grunt. As he pulled open the fridge door, his sister-in-law rushed into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Ooo! My little boy is so clever!" Hannah cooed.

"Ah!" Steve yelled in surprise. "What're you- Gerroff!" Attempting to push the small woman off, she clung all the tighter, not shifting for the lanky teen. Giving up, he looked over to his older brother with an expression of pleading and not a little fear. "Pete?"

Hiding his smile at his wife's antics behind his mug, Pete cleared his throat in mock seriousness. "Sweetheart, unhand th'young man for a moment and let us all know what's going on, yeah?"

Hannah swung around and squealed, "Steve got into university!"

Steve winced at the pitch, but didn't deny it. "Really?" Pete asked. "That's great, Steve!"

"Congratulations Steve!" Anneke leaned over and gave the blushing boy a quick hug.

"Here!" Hannah thrust a letter under her husband's nose.

Steve groaned. "Hannah! You going through my stuff again?"

"Oh, tush!" She waved his objections away before turning back to Pete. "I found it taking away your dirty laundry."

Steve rolled his eyes and headed back to the fridge.

"We should celebrate," announced Anneke. "Dinner. Everyone free tonight? My treat." Hannah looked even more thrilled, if that were possible. Pete and Steve looked over with pleased expressions.

"Are you sure, Anneke? Y'don't exactly have a steady cash flow."

"I'm not exactly crying poor, cousin, despite my unemployed status. It'll be fine."

Steve smiled for the first time that morning. "Thanks Anneke, that's real nice of you."

Anneke shrugged off the thanks. "You have all made a homeless Dutchwoman feel like she's found a home. It's the least I can do."

Pete stood up and knocked back the last of his coffee. "Well, I suppose someone needs t'go and make an honest livin'. I'm off. Text me with dinner details, yeah?"

"Bye, my love!" Hannah gave Pete a quick peck on the lips. "I better get going too."

"Have fun," Anneke farewelled Pete and Hannah as she sat down with her own coffee. "Got a restaurant you like, Steve?"

He shrugged. "I'll eat anything. Surprise me."

"That I can do."

Steve left, munching on some leftovers and Anneke was alone. After staring out the window from where she sat for a few moments, she sighed and turned to the paper Pete left behind. She grimaced as she read the headlines. Violence, racial tension, economic collapse. Turning to more cheerful matters she opened the employment section and began to scan the columns for work.

"I think I can make it work here," she mumbled to herself, smiling slightly.

* * *

Cursing her weakness for coffee, a petite blonde scrambled for the lifts of Thames House, willing the doors to stay open for just a moment longer. Thrusting her hand between the closing gap, Jo Portman sighed with relief as the lift doors jerked open again. Leaning against the wall, she took a fortifying sip of her now well-earned drink. Only then did she notice her tall, dark and highly amused Senior Case Officer leaning on the lift wall opposite.

"Tough weekend, Jo?"

Swallowing another sip, she shook her head. "Oh no, Lucas. Stayed in bed and watched too much telly. I'm sure you had a much more interesting weekend." She held back a smile, eyes sparkling over the disposable cup's rim.

Lucas looked away, feigning ignorance. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"Hmm, of course you don't."

"I did exactly what you did."

Jo snorted indelicately with laughter. "I think your version of a weekend in bed is slightly different from mine."

"I really don't know what you're talking about."

Jo laughed out loud with that. It was a good day when Lucas let his sense of humour out.

She was still chuckling with Lucas when they walked through the pods.

"Morning. War room." Ros greeted them as she strode past. After one last grin at each other, they adjusted their game faces and followed their Section Chief.

Nodding a quick greeting to Tariq and Ruth, Jo pulled out a notepad and a pen and sat down with Lucas as Sir Harry Pearce swept into to room and threw himself into the chair at the head of the table. His eyes focused on Ros standing at the opposite end near the smart screen with an expectant look. With all five pairs of eyes on her, Ros stood tall and tapped the screen.

"Last night two men in east London were attacked and severely beaten on their way home from dinner. As of thirty minutes ago, this incident became a homicide investigation when one of the victims died, having never regained consciousness."

Ros pointed to the screen. "The reason this case has come to Section D's attention is due to the fact that both the victims had this carved into their bellies."

Jo blanched when she realised that the image up on screen was a close up of a man's bloodied torso, sliced to resemble an eye with a single tear falling from it.

"This," Ros continued, "is the symbol of Britain Unite, a hate group allegedly affiliated with several nationalist political parties here in Britain and in Europe. They tout the ideals of a strong Britain by elevating the rights of 'indigenous' Britons, I.e. white people. Heterosexual white people."

At that, Tariq's lip curled and he began typing furiously into his laptop.

"Britain Unite was founded in 1978 under the guise of a community centre for the unemployed in Whitechapel. Under the leadership of William McInnes, formerly of Edinborough, the group were suspected of several hate attacks against immigrants and the homosexual community. Times as they were back then, the attacks were not given the attention required, it seems, to gather evidence against the group."

A tightening of the mouth was the only indication that Ros found this attitude disquieting.

"In 1994, the burning of a community hall used for services for a small Muslim community in Southwark led to the questioning and subsequent arrest of McInnes, Robert Ross and the seventeen year old Pieter Dijkstra. Due to the fact that McInnes and Ross had no police record, and Dijkstra being a minor, they were all let off lightly."

The screen flashed with images of the three men in question. The mug shot of William McInnes showed a tall, thin man with greying hair and a handlebar moustache staring into the camera, poker-faced. Robert Ross was a big man, not as tall, but twice the width of McInnes. He looked exactly like his profession claimed him to be, a butcher. Pieter Dijkstra, the seventeen year old, scowled at the camera like he wanted to leap over and beat the photographer to death. His hair was shaved down to the scalp with only the barest beginning of regrowth and his bare arms sported tattoos that were quite extensive for a boy his age.

"Although there have been no more arrests of these three men since '94, the work of Britain Unite has not ended. For the most part they have been threats and arson, and the occasional malevolent presence at rallies, which the police have dealt with on a case by case basis, until nine months ago when the group's symbol was freshly spray painted onto the shop door where a Punjabi father of three was left to bleed to death from a knife wound to his stomach." Ros tapped the screen and the photo of the crime scene appeared, the symbol dripping red paint like blood down the glass door.

"Five weeks ago, a march for refugees organised by several churches in the south London area was disrupted by around a dozen masked individuals shouting racist slogans and throwing Molotov cocktails into the marchers, which included children."

Jo gasped, touching her hand to her mouth in horror. She remembered that news item. The images on the screen were hard to swallow. Her eyes pricked at the image of a father, bleeding from a cut above his eye, carrying two crying children in his arms away from the mass of people, a look of sheer determination on his face.

"No one was fatally injured," Ros continued, "but thirty six adults and children were treated for injuries sustained at the march. The symbol of Britain Unite was painted on the door of the Anglican Church where the march was supposed to end." Again, the symbol in blood red spray paint.

"Then, last night. Patrick White and his partner Jeremy Portage were attacked coming home from a dinner celebrating their fifth anniversary. Last night, Britain Unite officially made themselves a threat to national security. And as such, the Home Secretary has given us the task of shutting them down."

A moment of silence was broken by Ruth exhaling. "Good," she murmured under her breath.

Ros allowed herself a satisfied smile, knowing the team were all on the same page. She turned to the screen again and pulled up some photos of a couple obviously taken by a surveillance team. "These photos were taken by the Met a week ago, when the cases were still under their auspices. This is McInnes now." She pointed to a man who looked no different than he had fifteen years previous, except that his hair and moustache were now white. "This is Ross." If it was even possible, the man was even wider, and his hair was now salt and peppered. "And this is Pieter Dijkstra." That was the biggest change. The man, now in his early thirties, had a big smile on his face and an arm slung around an attractive brunette, who looked adoringly up at him. His hair was a dark blonde, and fashionably tousled. Not a tattoo was in sight due to his long sleeved shirt.

"McInnes never married and lives away from any family he does have and Ross is estranged from his family due to a bitter divorce and custody battle several years ago, but Dijkstra lives with his wife, Hannah and younger half-brother, Steven. Harry and I have discussed this," At that, Ros gave a small nod in her boss's direction. "And we believe that Dijkstra is the way in." She scanned the faces around the table. "Hannah Dijkstra works as a drama teacher at the All Saints Girls College in south London and there is a vacancy at the school for a relieving English teacher."

Ros' sharp eyes fell on Jo. The young agent, sensing a hush fall over the room, looked up from her notes and, slightly startled, turned to her section chief. "How's your grammar, Ms Portman?" Ros asked with a small grin.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N Thank you for the reviews, favourites and follows I've gotten so far! Makes me all warm and tingly inside...**

**Chapter Two**

_One week later._

"Do you actually _work_?" Anneke burst out in disbelief, staring at her cousin by marriage. Hannah took it all in her stride, completely used to her family's reactions. "I mean, really?"

Hannah rolled her eyes in exasperation and flopped herself down next to Anneke on the couch. "It's terrifying how similar you are to Pete. We met you for the first time last year and it's like you're identical twins or something."

"Actually, the identical twins I've met in my lifetime are for the most part nothing like each other."

"Whatever," Hannah dismissed impatiently. "So? Will you come? You haven't gone out properly since you've arrived."

"I've gone out!" The Dutch woman defended herself.

"Job interviews and the Tower of London do not count as 'going out', sweetie."

Anneke huffed and crossed her arms in mock protest. Then a look of such sadness came over her face for a second that Hannah could almost dismiss it. But she didn't. She touched Anneke's arm gently so the woman looked at her. "Have you gone out since, you know..."

A smile that touched her lips but not her eyes crossed her face as she looked at Hannah. "I booked a private booth at one of the most exclusive restaurants in Amsterdam the night he told me. Non refundable booking." She made a sound that should have been a laugh.

"Bastard," the two women spoke together. They both laughed for real then.

"Then let's get you out there," Hannah spoke gently. "Drink, dance, find a man for the night?" Anneke laughed.

"I am _so_ not the one for one night stands, Han."

"Flirt outrageously with my very attractive female friends, then! They won't mind."

Anneke turned her serious gaze on Hannah. "They won't mind? I mean, having me along? You're very close to your workmates."

"Of course they won't," Hannah reassured her. "In fact, we have invited another new girl along too. She just started this week as our English reliever. Honestly, come along!"

Anneke hesitated a moment longer until the other woman gave a sly grin. "Don't make me get Pete in here to bully you."

The Dutch woman mock shuddered. "No! Anything but that!" She laughed. "Okay you pest. I'll come."

Friday night arrived faster than what Anneke would have liked. There was peaceful monotony to the Dijkstra household, barring Hannah's spontaneous outbursts of everything from picnics in their small backyard to the complete refurbishing of the lounge room. But even those disruptions, such as they were, did not upset the balance of the family, they were accepted and loved.

Anneke was happy at this moment to slip quietly into the folds of this family. The events of her own life before she moved to London had made her averse to anything out of the ordinary or unexpected. She had quite enough of that to last her a good portion of her life. The impulsive move to London and the arrival at the doorstep of a cousin she barely knew was so out of character for her, the slide into this soft family life was an answer to prayers.

Until her cousin Hannah insisted on dragging her to a 'Girls' Night' with her girlfriends.

Anneke was not one for the wild nightlife having studied, rather than partied, her way through university. By the time she had the money to indulge in such things she was settled with a partner and the inclination to read a good book, rather than throw money away on high-priced drinks and dresses that barely covered her arse.

So began the dilemma as Anneke stood in front of her meager wardrobe.

Hannah burst into the room and gasped dramatically at her cousin's state of undress. "Anneke! What – where's your? Come on! Why are you not dressed?"

Anneke threw an exasperated glance over her shoulder. "Apologies. I was under the impression that nakedness in my own room was socially acceptable."

"What's going on?" Hannah demanded.

Anneke waved her hands in frustration at the wardrobe. "The age-old dilemma, cousin. I have nothing to wear."

Hannah rushed over to the wardrobe and peered in. Glancing up at the other woman she asked, "I thought you'd decided what you're going to wear, sweetie?"

Indulging in an uncharacteristic pout, she sat heavily on the bed and sighed. "Not good enough. I'll just have to stay here tonight."

The younger woman snickered. "You think you're getting out of this?"

"Maybe?"

"Nope. Here. Tight shiny pants. I knew you had something."

Anneke snatched the pants out of Hannah's hands. "Can't say I didn't try," she muttered.

* * *

Three hours later, Anneke could honestly admit that she was glad Hannah pushed her to come. She left all her girlfriends, the ones she still had after her disaster of a relationship, behind in Heerenveen. She missed the lack of pressure that came with hanging out with women who accepted you for who you are.

Anneke, and the four other girls, were well on their way to drinking themselves under the table in the too loud, too crowded, too dark, but somehow perfect bar by the time Anneke's turn for a second round of drinks came around.

Hannah shrieked with laughter with Olivia's celebrity impressions and Tracy was making eyes at a good looking guy who was smirking right back at her, ignoring the obvious ribbing of his mates. Anneke leaned into the 'new' girl, Wendy and giggled at the antics of the other girls. She looked up into Wendy's big blue eyes and, with the honesty that came with too much to drink, she blurted, "How are you still single? You're so pretty…"

Wendy laughed huskily and slurred right back, "I could ask you the same, Ani. You have the most beautiful green eyes."

Anneke gasped. "And you have the most beautiful blue ones! Maybe we're meant to be together!" She inelegantly threw her arms around the petite blonde. Wendy squeezed her back.

"Yes! Let us forget the nastiness of the male population and be together!"

They both collapsed in drunken giggles, then began to laugh harder as they caught the attention of the group of men by the bar, who began looking hopeful. Anneke giggled for a little longer, wiping the tears from her eyes. She then took a deep breath and straightened up. Sitting quietly for a moment, she then turned to the other woman, who was watching the change come over Anneke in silence.

"How dare he?" Anneke indignantly muttered, almost to herself. "For his bloody _secretary_! Worst cliché ever!"

"That's terrrible."

"And I haven't even let myself get drunk over it! Long overdue!"

"That's even worse! And quite right!"

The Dutch woman was satisfied with the pep talk and took a fortifying sip of her cocktail. "I'm going to meet a man who will sweep me off my feet and treat me as the princess I am."

"Cheers to that."

Happy with how the night was turning out, Anneke raised her glass and took another long sip, her mind not thinking beyond the next outing on the dance floor.

* * *

"I don't know, Jo. Could you be grasping?"

Ros turned a slightly concerned gaze on her Junior Case Officer. Jo stood carefully and walked away from Ros, rubbing the back of her neck. She turned back to her boss and looked her right in the eye.

"Maybe," she conceded. "But from what I can figure, Hannah knows nothing. Anneke loves her family, but as a new comer, may be able to differentiate between familial quirks and non-standard behaviour in her cousin. And she does notice, Ros."

"You gathered all this from one night out on the town?"

Jo sighed and sat down again, looking defeated.

Ros softened a little. "Listen Jo. I can see where you're headed with this. I just don't want to screw up this operation barely a week in. We'll do some research into Anneke van Leeuwen and find out if she's the asset we're looking for. It is a big advantage that she's living with Dijkstra, there is that."

Jo sparked up a little. "I'll talk to Tariq first thing Monday, Ros. I know this sounds illogical at the moment, but I can just – " She paused, staring hard at the ceiling of the Grid, trying to find the words.

Ros chuckled softly and stood herself, leaning over to pat Jo on the arm. "I know, Jo. I definitely know that feeling. Now go relax. It's the weekend after all."


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Some more pronunciation happiness!**

**Heerenveen: Heer-ah-fain**

**Leeuwarden: Ley-wah-den**

* * *

**Chapter Three**

Anneke's head throbbed the moment she cracked open her eyes. Slightly disorientated, she pulled her head out from the pillow under which it was residing and squinted at the bedside clock. Deciding that after the amount of alcohol she consumed last night, she was entitled to sleep well into the early afternoon, she was about to rebury into the blankets when her mobile began to ring. She gave a surprised yelp and then moaned when that sent a bolt of pain shooting through her eyes. Not bothering to look, Anneke fumbled on the bedside table until she reached the evil vibrating bringer of noise.

"Ahhfugow?"

"Anneke?"

"Yaahetmay"

A peal of husky laughter rung out over the line. "I'm glad I'm not the only one who's feeling last night. It's Wendy."

Anneke pushed herself off the mattress. "You don't sound like you're suffering at all," she rasped, not entirely faking her hangover impression. "I do believe I am winning in the suffering stakes."

"I do believe you're more eloquent hungover than drunk."

"So I've been told," Anneke chuckled.

"I was hoping we could catch up this week. Coffee, lunch?"

"Sounds lovely, Wendy. I'd love to."

"I have nothing on this Tuesday. You?"

"You seem to forget I'm unemployed. I have nothing but time." She laughed. "I have an interview on Monday, but that's my only confirmed appointment next week, so Tuesday's fine."

"Great! I'll text you time and location."

Anneke let out a jaw cracking yawn and didn't catch Wendy's next words. "What was that?"

"You gave me an idea last night. You know, when we were talking about our, uh, relationship statuses."

"What," Anneke stopped shot. "Hang on, Wendy, what's this about, really?" The voice on the other end of the line laughed huskily.

"How much do you remember about last night?"

"Oh, no."

"Oh, yes, my newest friend!" The laugh tickled Anneke's ear again. "Look, Anneke, I won't embarrass you or anything. It's just an idea, okay?"

Anneke sighed. "Whatever. Okay," she capitulated.

* * *

Jo pounced on Tariq as soon as he slipped through the pods onto the Grid Monday morning. When Ros walked in a half hour later, she was pleased to see the two young agents hard at work, intensely discussing the operation at Tariq's workstation.

She sat down at her own desk, smiling up at Lucas as he took his place opposite her. She and the Senior Case Officer were looking into the financials and communications of Dijkstra, McInnes and Ross, while coordinating with Tariq on the surveillance teams placed on the three men. An hour passed by quickly as each of the team members worked quietly on their respective tasks. Ros, never really one to stare at a screen for too long, decided that she needed a break and stretched. Before she could pass the other workstations to get to the staff kitchen, Jo looked up and motioned her over.

"What do you have?" Ros asked, curious to see whether Jo's hunch could be the break for this case.

Jo's eyes sparkled with suppressed excitement. "I really think we're onto something here, Ros. Tariq, run us through everything." The young agent scooted her chair closer to the techies' screen.

"Before you start - ," Ros interrupted Tariq as he opened his mouth to begin. "We should all hear this. Lucas, Ruth!"

The other members looked up at the sound of their names and made their way over to Ros.

"Jo met a family member of Dijkstra's Friday night while out with his wife and believes she may have potential as a source."

"Possibly even an asset," Jo added.

Lucas raised an eyebrow. "Really? All from one night out?" Ros smirked as she heard her own words from Saturday echoed. Jo fixed both of them with an exasperated gaze.

"Just take a look. Please. If I'm completely off track, there's no harm done."

Lucas motioned for her to begin and Ruth wedged herself in front of his tall frame to get a better look at the screen. Jo turned back to Tariq and he took his cue from her. Clicking the mouse he pulled up a passport photo of Anneke.

"This is Anneke van Leeuwen," Jo addressed the team. "I met her, as Wendy Flynn, at a girls' night organised by Hannah Dijkstra and some of the other female teachers from All Saints College. I found her observant," she held up a finger, "controlled," another finger, "and smart," a final finger. "She was also fiercely protective of Hannah, although not through any aggressive or direct actions. Any man who approached her cousin was distracted, then sent on his way by this woman. Any potential threat was sized up and dealt with calmly and efficiently. Taxi rides, overzealous bouncers, drinks left unattended on our table, she was watching. I don't even think she knew she was doing it most of the time."

Tariq took over at this point. "We think it has something to do with her work, or something to do with why she chose her line of work." He turned to his screen. "Here's what we know of Anneke van Leeuwen. She's a 28 year old early childhood educator from Heerenveen in the Netherlands. Born an only child in the city of Leeuwarden in the north of the country, she spent most of her young life there. Her mother is Pieter Dijkstra's paternal aunt, but the family was not close. Dijkstra came with his parents and sister to live here while he was still quite young. They never knew of each other until very recently. Graduating from school, she then moved to Amsterdam to pursue her bachelor's degree at the Free University, and after this, to the IPABO College to complete her education qualification.

"While living in Amsterdam, Anneke met Willem Verkerk and they eventually moved in together. They were together six years. Unfaithfulness on his part ended the relationship five months ago, and one month ago, Anneke packed up her bags, left her job as a kindergarten manager and moved here."

Jo spoke again. "She told me that she and Dijkstra had only met a year ago at a family reunion in Leeuwarden last year. A sort of attempt at healing the rift in the family that caused Dijkstra's family to leave in the 80s. The move here was impulsive. An attempt to get away from the memories of her failed relationship, I suspect. She hinted at one point that she had lost friends when she threw Willem out."

"She had an active online presence up until a few weeks before the break up," Tariq pulled up a Facebook page. The page was filled with photos of a smiling Anneke with various people surrounding her in every picture. All were dated nearly seven months previous. "There are a few nasty messages in her message inbox. I don't think it was an amicable break up."

"She's been in the country for nearly six weeks, and I think she might be open to new friendships," Jo shrugged. "Maybe even a new man."

At this, she and Tariq exchanged quick grins. "Maybe a man who'd been in a similar situation to herself."

Ruth was the first to catch on. "That could work. Between the two of you, she may open up about any concerns she has in her new home. It looks like she's had no one to do that with for a while."

Ros made a sound of agreement. She knew what Jo had thought of as a possible angle into the Dijkstra's.

"'The two of you'? You and Tariq?"

Jo and Tariq grinned at Lucas' question. "Ah, no," the techie answered. "As attractive as I am, I think she'd go for a slightly older man."

"Oh," Lucas crossed his arms across his chest. "You mean me."

"Yes," Jo kept the confidence in her voice, although she felt a trickle of trepidation start deep in her belly. "Wendy Flynn has a brother. Divorced after his wife ran off with another guy. Was committed while his wife only wanted a bit of fun. Similar situation to Anneke. It's something that will make her more open to you." She held her breath. Lucas stared down at her with a frown.

"Alright."

She almost fell off her chair. Almost. But happily her professionalism kicked in and she remained upright in her seat. "Great!" She gave him a grateful smile. "I still know it's a stretch, but I really believe Anneke is the key to this."

"We'll trust you in this, Jo. Your instincts have been spot on before," Ros spoke for herself and Lucas. "Do what you need to." With that she turned and headed to her original destination for a cup of tea.

"Be kind with my name choice, will you?" Lucas winked and sat back at his workstation.

Ruth gave Jo a quick arm rub and smiled gently in encouragement before also leaving the pair.

Tariq gave a quick burst of laughter and rubbed his hands in glee. "This'll be good. Now names. Eustace Flynn?"

"Don't you dare," growled a dark voice from behind Lucas' screen.

* * *

"Coming!" Anneke called as whoever was at the door pounded it a second time. She pulled the door open and peered through the gap. Forcing a smile on her face she greeted her cousin's boss and mentor. "Mr McInnes. How are you this morning?"

"Bill, lass. No titles between friends, eh?"

"Bill," she repeated quietly. "Come in. Pete will be down in a minute."

The older man stepped through the door and brushed past Anneke. Smile still plastered to her face, she left him waiting in the hall. Joining Hannah in the kitchen she whispered, "That man creeps me out, Han."

Hannah glanced over her shoulder before leaning toward Anneke. "They've known each other for ages. But if I never see the man again, it'd be too soon. He scares me, Ani."

Anneke's eyes widened. "Then why don't you tell Pete?"

"I –" the younger woman paused. She looked down at her hands as her fingers twisted together. "I have." Hannah looked up at Anneke, a touch of fear in her eyes. "They have a history."

"What?"

They both turned to the kitchen door when they hear Pete greet his friend in the hallway. Hannah gave Anneke a pointed look and pushed her chair back. "Tea?" Anneke nodded assent.

They kept silent, the only noise the clatter of dishes and the faint rumble of the males in the hall. A sudden raising of one of the voices had them twisting to look at the door again. A moment later, heavy footsteps preceded Pete appearing in the doorway. "I'll be goin', love." He didn't meet his wife's searching gaze.

"Everything okay, Pete?"

"Fine. I'll catch you tonight, yeah?"

"Yeah. Okay."

Hannah watched him go as Anneke approached her from behind. The front door closed but the tension in Hannah's shoulders remained. "Tell me, Han. What does this man have over him?"

"Pete was mixed up in some bad things when he was younger. Long before he met me. When his mum took off, his dad did his best with him and his older sister, but Pete went off the rails. He started running with skinheads." Hannah sniffed and rubbed her nose. "He somehow got it in his head that she ran off with a black man."

Anneke sat down heavily.

"Bill was supposed to be a pillar of the community, but he ran that gang. I know it. Pete still idolizes him. He and Bill got themselves arrested back when he was a teenager. Bobby too. You met him?" Anneke shook her head.

"I've only heard Pete mention him once or twice."

"Yeah, well. Pete told me that he cleaned himself up and cut off ties with the gang. He completely changed after his dad and step-mum died. He became a dad to Steve overnight." Hannah sighed. "I don't see how he can really be free with Bill still working with him, but Pete insists that he and Bobby had nothing to do with the gang. I don't like them, and I trust them about as far as I could throw them, but if Pete says he's done with that lifestyle, then I believe him."

* * *

Lucas sat in the cramped van parked down the street from the Dijkstra home and watched a screen showing Dijkstra and McInnes leaving the house. The body language between the two was not the most positive and there were no words exchanged as they climbed into McInnes' work van. The primary surveillance unit took off after the two men, leaving Lucas in the secondary unit with Tessa, the techie. Normally, a senior MI-5 officer such as Lucas would not be required to join standard surveillance teams, but he wanted to get an angle on the household dynamics of the Dijkstras before he's introduced as 'Mark Flynn' to Anneke.

An uneventful half hour later the front door opened again and Hannah stepped out. She took off down the street, waving to Anneke, who watched from the front step. The bug planted by the front door picked up only farewells and a 'good luck for your interview' from Hannah before she called about having to run for the train. Anneke waved one last time before turning to go back inside, but she caught sight of the surveillance van. The van itself was nothing special, but the woman stared hard at it, as if memorizing its appearance, then closed the door behind her.

"She's either onto us, or paranoid," joked Tessa.

"You know the saying," Lucas rejoined. "Just because you're paranoid, it doesn't mean they're not after you." The curtains twitched as Anneke peered out at them again. "We got a live one, Jo," he muttered.

* * *

"Ani!"

Anneke looked up at the blonde making her way through the tables. She stood and they embraced. "How are you, Ani? Recovered from the weekend?" Anneke groaned.

"I'm just not as good as bouncing back as I used to be, Wendy. I'm getting old."

Wendy chuckled. "Don't talk about getting old. You're not even thirty, woman."

They ordered their lunch and chatted amiably about their lives, having the conversation the music from Friday night's bar would have drowned out had they attempted it then. After coffees had been ordered, Wendy cleared her throat delicately. "I, ah, wanted to ask you something."

"Just as long as it's not a blind date with your brother, ask away."

The stunned look on Wendy's face caused Anneke to choke on her sip of latte. "Shit! It's a blind date with your brother?"

"How on earth did you know?" Wendy demanded.

"I don't know!" Anneke held her hands up in innocence. "I really don't! Maybe I'm psychic?"

"Or psycho, one of the two."

"Hey now, you were proposing the other night that we run off into the sunset together."

"Yeah, that was me, huh? Anyway," Wendy leaned in and whispered, "I've told him about you."

"No!" the other woman groaned and covered her face with her hands.

"Oh, come on! Try him on for size! You like tall guys, right?"

Anneke peered through her fingers suspiciously. "Yes?"

"Here."

A phone was thrust into Anneke's hands and she peered down at the bright screen.

"That's my brother's Facebook page. I know I'm biased," Wendy admitted. "But even I think he's a bit of a looker." Anneke tapped on Mark's profile picture and after staring for a moment longer, glanced up at Wendy.

"...and he's single?" Wendy threw her head back and laughed outright at that.

"Divorced. Wife walked out on him when he started talking about kids. The cow was always the party girl."

"Has he been seeing anyone since the divorce?"

"Not a one." Wendy's smile grew wider. "That's why I thought of him when you said you hadn't been on a date since the bastard walked out on you."

"Fine." Anneke said with a small grin. "Under duress, mind you, I'll take your brother out on a pity date." Wendy laughed again.

* * *

Jo tried to squelch the urge to squeal with excitement and look suitably serious when she approached Lucas later that afternoon on the Grid.

"Guess who has a date with a beautiful foreign blonde this Saturday?"

Ros overheard Jo's remark and smirked at her colleague. "Make sure you don't get your beautiful foreign blondes mixed up, eh, Lucas?"

"Ha, Ros. Funny."

"Just keeping things real, Lucas."


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks again for all the reviews and follows!**

**A translation for you!**

**Verdomme: Damn or equivalent swear word in Dutch**

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Anneke wasn't sure whether she should cheer or throw up. "I can't believe I agreed to this, Han," she moaned as she pulled her fingers through her hair yet again, leaning on the wall between the kitchen and the lounge room.

"You need this, love," Hannah called from the kitchen. "Just take him out, flirt shamelessly, make him spend gratuitous amounts of money on unpronounceable cocktails... "

Steve wandered across the hall, seeking sustenance from the kitchen.

"...then shag him till his legs fall off!" Hannah cackled loudly and Steve decided that a snack could wait until his sister-in-law had left the kitchen. Pete sighed as he passed a fleeing Steve.

"Please love, not in front of th'children."

"Oh, you love it." His wife teased.

"Yes, dear."

Anneke grinned at their antics and firmly told herself to nut up or shut up about the whole thing. She really did need to move on.

* * *

Despite her resolution earlier that week, Anneke still felt sick to the stomach about the whole date thing. The expected phone call from Mark himself didn't help matters either. Good grief, the man's voice was tastier than his photo. It brought back memories of her first date with Willem, when all she wanted to do was listen to his gorgeous voice. He could have read the phone book and Anneke still would have been enraptured. It was this memory that held her fast as seven thirty Saturday evening approached.

"Anneke!"

Hannah's voice echoed through the house. "Anneke?"

Anneke sat quietly on the end of her borrowed bed. Door closed. If she was paying attention, she would have seen her reflection in the free standing full length mirror positioned next to her borrowed dresser. But green eyes stared, not really seeing and ears not really hearing. She wasn't quite sure how long she had been sitting there, supposedly getting ready for her blind date, but it must have been awhile, since Hannah was now looking for her. Anneke blinked, and a tear slipped down a pale cheek, coloured grey from her mascara.

"Ani?" Hannah's voice was now a whisper outside her borrowed room. The door cracked open and her cousin peeked in. Upon catching sight of Anneke staring at nothing, clad only in a dressing gown, Hannah rushed in and immediately embraced her.

"No!" She commanded. "I will not let you think about him! You will not -"

Anneke turned into the warm embrace and allowed herself a single sobbing gasp into Hannah's jumper. "You will not think about him," Hannah said softly, stroking Anneke's hair. "Never again."

"I can't!"

"You can and you will! You will not think about the bastard and you will get out there and grab happiness with both hands."

Anneke gave a shuddering sigh, still pressed close to Hannah.

"And if this Mark looks like happiness, grab as much is legally permissible." Anneke began to laugh and Hannah smiled down at her. Anneke pulled away from her cousin's comforting embrace.

"Thank you, Hannah. For everything."

Hannah leaned in for another hug. "Anytime, Ani. Now let's get you dressed."

* * *

Lucas arrived at the door five minutes before he was expected. He may have spent eight years in a Russian prison, but he certainly remembered that women, in general, liked to make an entrance. And that meant making a man wait for that entrance. Sarah's minute planning and meticulous timing aside, this is what he could remember from dating. So his surprise was genuine when, seconds after ringing the doorbell of the Dijkstra's home, the door was swung open by Anneke van Leeuwen herself.

"Mark," she greeted him warmly and opened the door wider to allow him access. "Come on in."

The second surprise came swiftly after she closed the door behind him when she leaned in and gave him a quick peck on either cheek. He recovered admirably though, and gave her a bright smile back.

"Pleased to meet you, Anneke. I hope my sister didn't bully you into this?"

Her laughter echoed off the walls. No simpering giggles from this woman. "Oh, no! I'm not one to get bullied into anything. Had quite enough of that at school. Come through. Come meet the family."

"Just as long as it's not the family with a capital 'F'…"

Anneke chuckled again and guided him into the kitchen. "Everyone, this is Mark Flynn, Wendy's brother. Mark, this is Steve," a small nod from the teenager, "Pete, and Hannah." Pieter Dijkstra stood and held out his hand for Lucas to shake. A firm grip, not too tight. Hannah stuck out her hand as well after her husband stood back.

"Fantastic to finally meet you, Mark," she gushed.

Murmuring a greeting back to them all, Lucas stood uncomfortably for a moment, when Hannah gasped. "Oh, Ani, you didn't!"

"What? What did I do?"

Hannah ignored her cousin and turned to Lucas. "You have to forgive Anneke, she's still adjusting to the way to greet people in this country." To his left he heard a groan come from the woman in question.

"I'm so sorry Mark! I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable – it's just the way we greet people in the Netherlands. Well, not everyone, but friends of friends –" she spoke very fast and when he turned to look at her, she had a hand held to her cheek in embarrassment, hiding her face from him.

Pete spoke up helpfully at this point, "It's when she leans in for a third kiss that y'know you've made it."

Lucas couldn't help but smile at the obviously close relationship this family had. "Anneke," he said, touching her shoulder lightly so she would look at him. "To be honest, I was more surprised you could reach my cheek."

Even Steve snorted with suppressed laughter at that. Anneke crossed her arms and threw an indignant look at her chortling relatives. "Ha, ha. The Dutch are a tall people, I'll have you know. And I'm wearing heels."

Stifling a grin, Lucas pulled his gift out of his jacket pocket. "I didn't grill Wendy enough to find out what flowers or chocolates you like, so I got you this." Anneke's mouth dropped open a little.

"You got me a Heerenveen football shirt? That's – thank you," she spoke softly. She pinned him with her clear green eyes.

Lucas shrugged and looked away, slightly embarrassed. "I follow a bit of the European league."

"Thank you, Mark," she repeated.

Hannah had obviously decided that they needed to be alone and began motioning for them to get moving. "Lovely to meet you, Mark. Hopefully we'll be seeing _more_ of you soon!"

"Han!" A furious whisper came from behind him.

"What?" She whispered back. "Well, maybe not me…"

Pete could be heard laughing again.

* * *

After dinner at a small Greek restaurant not far from the Dijkstras', Lucas realised that he was so wrapped up in conversation with this potential asset he forgot about the wire he was wearing. After challenging Anneke to try a sweet Greek coffee, he suggested that they move on.

"Oh!" She sat up straight, remembering. "There's a pub not too far from here I've been meaning to visit. Would you - I mean, would that be okay?"

Lucas gave a relieved grin. "More than okay."

After a few drinks, Anneke began talking about her family, the love she had for them obvious in those green eyes. Lucas pressed her gently, subtly pushing her to reveal more.

"Your cousin, Pete, what does he do?"

"Ah, he's a tradesman. Runs a business with an old friend."

"How long for?"

Anneke looked away at that. "I'm not too sure, actually," she laughed self-depreciably. "I haven't been too good that way. Wallowing in self-pity. I'll have to find out," she said more to herself than to Lucas. "I know he's still working with the man who took him on as an apprentice years ago. My cousin had a wild youth, and apparently Bill helped clean him up."

The look on her face didn't reflect the gratefulness of her words. Lucas leaned a little closer.

"You don't think he helped?"

Anneke sighed and pulled her mouth into a small grin. "It's none of my business really. I've only known Pete for a year. Bill much less than that. My feelings about the man my cousin works with shouldn't factor into this. I mean, what do I know?"

"Maybe more than you think."

"Maybe." She turned towards the band playing on the far side of the pub and took a sip of her drink. Lucas stared intently at the back of Anneke's head. He then leaned forward and caught her hand in his own. She started as his warm hand covered hers, and she turned sharply to him. But she didn't move her hand away. She smiled apologetically. "I sure know how to bring the mood down. I'm sorry, Mark."

"You have nothing to be sorry about. No, I'm serious," he chided as she shook her head to disagree. "I think it's great that you care so much about your family, especially family you haven't met until recently." Anneke glanced down at their joined hands and carefully turned her palm over until she interlaced her fingers with his.

"They're family. They're mine to protect," she said simply.

* * *

Anneke's heart rate stepped up a notch when Mark pulled up in front of the Dijkstra's house. The night had gone well, really well, since she pulled open the front door to the startled man after pacing the hall steadily for ten minutes. He was charming, thoughtful, and such a good listener. It was also a bonus that she could stare into his beautiful blue eyes and lose track of all conversation.

She glanced over at him and he gave her a cheeky grin before he pulled his tall frame out of the car with more grace than should have been possible for a man his size. She reached for her own door handle before having it pulled out of her hands.

"Really?" Anneke raised an eyebrow as Mark held out a hand to help her out of the car. He smirked, one side of his mouth twitching, but said nothing as she took his hand and climbed out of the vehicle. "I've got to find me an English gent," she teased.

Not letting go of her hand, he closed the car door and lead her to the front steps. He turned and Anneke's insides melted a little. It may be terribly old fashioned of her, but she thrilled at the fact that even in heels, she had to look up to gaze into his afore mentioned blue eyes.

"May I?" Mark asked softly. Licking her suddenly dry lips, Anneke could only nod. Mark leaned in and brushed his nose across hers before touching his lips tentatively to her own. At the touch of his warm lips, Anneke decided at that point that there really was no time like the present and reached up to cup his face with her cool hands and press his mouth more firmly to hers. A small groan filled the silence, from him or from her, she was too wrapped up to work it out. One of Mark's arms wrapped itself around her shoulders and the other snaked around her waist and pulled her tight to him. Anneke sighed happily to herself. Her lips softened and opened under the attention lavished on them, and Mark swept his tongue inside, tasting of beer and mint. The moan definitely came from her that time. Her hands swept down his face, nails lightly scraping the dark stubble that had been taunting her all night, and they finished up on his broad shoulders. She gripped them hard as Mark moved one hand to the back of her head, the other to the base of her spine. Spearing his fingers into her hair, he tightened his grip on her back and almost lifted her from the ground. She felt as if boiling water had replaced blood and was coursing through her veins. She needed air. She pulled away with a gasp.

"Verdomme," she breathed, opening her eyes reluctantly. Mark pulled back and fixed her with his intense blue gaze. His cheekbones and ears were tinged with pink. Anneke grinned suddenly at the sight of a fully grown man blushing.

"I should like to see you again, Mark," Anneke whispered, still smiling, and brushed her hand over the said cheekbones. Mark closed his eyes and leaned a little into her hand.

"I should like that very much," he replied, flashing her a small grin.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Plots thicken! **

**Dutch words for the day: ****Zoute drops - Salted Dutch licorice (Not enjoyed by all - the husband thought I was trying to kill him the first and only time he tried dubbel (double) zouts. Nearly dumped me then and there...)**

* * *

**Chapter Five**

"Everyone!"

The team snapped to attention at Harry's command and within seconds were gathering notes and various other items related to the Britain Unite operation. Harry paced while the team filed into the glass-walled war room. He waited until Ruth swung into her chair then leaned forward on the table.

"Progress report. Ros?"

Ros began speaking even before her boss managed to sit down. "We've been running checks on the financials and communications of the three ringleaders. The most obvious anomaly is in an account set up in McInnes' name only a year ago. Once a month he's been receiving a deposit of ten thousand pounds. The source of where this money is coming from is still unknown to us." She glanced at Tariq.

"The transfers have never come from a single location," he continued from where Ros left off. "Follow one transfer and where it came from yesterday is not the same as today. It continuously jumps. Virtually impossible to trace. The same technique is used for the emails each of the men have been receiving. The domains of the addresses are nonsense, random numbers -"

"Sorry, Tariq," Ruth spoke carefully. "That's not entirely true." Even Ros' eyes widened a little at the interruption. Ruth rarely sought the limelight. "Not ten minutes ago I believe I broke the code. Here," she pulled out her notes with the email addresses scrawled all over the page. "These are coordinates," she circled the first part of the 'name'. "This is the date," the second half, "time," the domain name, "and number of victims," she finished quietly.

"Victims?" Jo asked, voice low with growing disquiet.

"The attack referred to here," Ruth continued, tapping the circled address, "took place at a Jewish synagogue, just outside of Paris. At 11.02 Saturday morning nearly three years ago, three explosions took out the roof supports and killed nine people." She paused and threw an unreadable look at Harry.

"Ruth," he spoke gently, "who claimed responsibility?"

She gazed at him a moment longer before turning back to Ros. "Snow White."

The collective hiss of breath was louder than any sound that had been in the room for the last few minutes. Lucas leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his eyes, Ros clenched her fists and stood, her chair rolling towards the wall with the force. Jo and Tariq glanced at each other with horror dawning on their faces. Only Harry remained stoic, his face hardening at Ruth's words.

"If this is what we're suspecting," he ground out, "if these hateful bastards are expanding their operations from mainland Europe to British soil," he caught the eye of each of his team, "then we stop them."

"Are they using these three men, do you think?" Jo asked, still a little shell shocked.

"I haven't yet had the chance to analyse all the communications between these addresses and the men, but at the moment, yes." Ruth looked at Harry again. "I believe this is a move by Snow White to shift their operation into Britain."

"Tariq," Ros said in a tight voice. "Pull up our files on Snow White."

The young tech complied and turned on the smart screen so the whole team could see. All stared in silence as the statistics filled the screen. Ros stood again, unable to keep still, and stalked over to the screen. "Forty one deaths and countless injuries over ten years," she muttered, almost to herself. She raised her voice, "The attacks have increased with intensity and number over the years until April last year. There have been no attacks by the group since then. The worst hit areas have been France, the Netherlands, and Denmark. The gay community, Muslims, Jews and communities of Asian descent have been the worst hit. The last, and largest, attack in April was on a Hindi story time in a park in Amsterdam." She swallowed and faced the group. "Twelve people died that day when two masked gunmen opened fire. Six of them were children."

They all knew about the attack. The news was filled with nothing else for weeks as the media mourned over the death of so many innocents, lambasted the gunmen who were both shot dead by police when fleeing the scene, and revealed the horrifying past of the group behind the attack.

"If they are planning an attack here," Harry turned his sharp gaze to Lucas and Jo, "I need to know if our present course of action will get us the information we need."

"I believe we're on the right track, Harry," Jo spoke quickly. "Hannah Dijkstra may not have panned out, but Anneke –"

She glanced at Lucas.

Lucas nodded. "Anneke van Leeuwen may be our way in." Harry leaned back in his chair, eyebrows raised. "She's sharp, Harry," Lucas added with a grim smile. "I suspect that if something is going on with Dijkstra, she will notice."

Harry stared at them a moment longer before nodding himself. "Good." He stood, thus ending the meeting.

The mood on the Grid was somber as Section D set back to their task, more urgent now than before to see results. Jo was contemplating getting out for lunch and going for a walk to relieve the tension when the mobile on her desk gave a chime. She snatched it up and opened the message. This mobile belonged to 'Wendy Flynn'. Jo gave a chuckle. "What is it?" Tariq asked, ever curious.

"It's the date report."

"Date?"

"Specifically, Lucas' date with Anneke."

Ros indulged in a twitch of the lips as she continued to work. Lucas, on the other hand, nearly dropped the papers he was shuffling through.

"The what?" He sounded slightly appalled.

Ruth, overhearing the conversation from her desk, raised her voice, "It's fine, Lucas. I'm sure she had a wonderful time." Lucas looked baffled as he turned from one woman to the other.

"Calm down, man." Tariq called over, seeing his colleague's expression. "It's completely normal female behaviour."

"How do you know?" The dismayed spook asked, eyes wide.

"Sisters."

* * *

Early that same morning, in a household on the other side of London, Hannah was making not-so-subtle hints about 'Mr Tall, Dark and Available'.

"Yes, I'm seeing him again, Han. No, he hasn't called yet. And none of your business, whether he tasted my zoute drops or not."

The shrill ringing of Pete's mobile on the breakfast bar thankfully stopped Hannah from attempting to probe deeper into Mark's every word, gesture and breathing pattern. "Pete!" Hannah screeched "Phone!"

Protecting her right eardrum from more verbal assaults, Anneke walked around the kitchen table to the pantry for a box of breakfast cereal. Pete's loping footsteps became louder then stopped. "Yeah?" He answered his phone cheerfully. There was a pause. "I, ah - hang on mate," his voice dropped, became hollow. Anneke paused, cereal box in hand. "I said wait," her cousin spat into the phone, fainter as he moved away from the kitchen. She leaned out of the pantry and watched him walk away, shoulders stiff with tension.

"...and I said, 'How can you expect us to put on this type of production every year when you keep dropping the budget?' Hopeless, these administrators!" Hannah continued her one sided conversation, oblivious to the fact Anneke's attention was elsewhere. "Anyway, sweetie, I've got to do a spot of shopping for work. Did you need anything while I'm there?"

Anneke blinked and turned to Hannah. "Ah, no. No, I'm okay, Han."

"Cool! I'll see you tonight then?"

"Bye," Anneke murmured, the other woman already gone. Staring out the kitchen in the direction of her cousin, she made her decision. Lightly treading the floorboards to the back of the house, she paused, listening for Pete's voice. A muffled expletive drew her in the direction of the laundry. Slowly making her way closer to the closed door, she strained to overhear the conversation. The door was more soundproof than she liked, probably why Pete had chosen the room. All she could make out was, "Bill," "statement," then "why". She then heard "no" repeated more than once.

Anneke's stomach dropped. Hannah was right. Bill has some hold over Pete. She carefully walked back to the kitchen and automatically continued preparing her breakfast. Could she do anything? What could she do? Should she speak to Pete? Would he want her interfering? Questions swirled around in her head but she was at a loss as to what to do. But by the time she had finished eating, Anneke had settled on just watching for now. It was all she could do. Wandering into her room several hours later, the house now empty of all inhabitants barring herself, she spotted the Heerenveen shirt Mark gave her. With a soft smile of pleasure she reached for her mobile. She had someone to thank.


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: This here's a longer chapter for me. I would have to say my favourite. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Six**

Anneke was alone again that night, having only glancingly seen her cousin and his wife before they were out again at a function at Hannah's school. She had studied Pete when he came home, looking for any clues that something may be wrong. Apart from the tiredness in his eyes and the slight slump to his posture, Pete gave away nothing. Anneke was curled up on the couch in the living room, book in hand, but she was unable to concentrate on the words on the page. This itself showed how disturbed she was. Normally she would be lost to all but the words in front of her. Thumping on the stairs jolted her out of her thoughts and she looked over the back of the couch only to see Steve making his way from his upstairs flat to the kitchen.

"You know, Steve, there's a name for people like you in Dutch," she teased her young cousin.

"I don't want t'know," he mumbled back.

Anneke chuckled and turned back to her book. The words continued to make no sense. With a frustrated sigh, she considered turning on some mindless television program, but before she could reach the remote her phone vibrated on the coffee table beside her. Reaching for it, she felt herself grow a little warm at the name on the screen. Taking a deep breath and repeating 'confidence' to herself, she answered the phone.

"You're giving yourself away, Mark. Too keen," Anneke admonished.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Mark apologised, a smile in his deep voice. "Should I ring back tomorrow?"

"Well, you're on the phone now. May as well talk to you..." She sighed, resigned. Mark laughed, a husky chuckle reminiscent of his younger sister. Anneke didn't want to get too excited about whatever was going on between them, but she had a hard time keeping her distance. Mark was so easy to talk to. He really listened. And maybe he really was attracted to her. She hadn't felt that for some time, partially her fault maybe, as she held tight to a relationship that was going nowhere and that should have ended long before it did.

"I'd like to see you again, Anneke," Mark said softly on the other end. Anneke's lips curved upwards with pleasure. "I don't want to wait to the weekend. Please tell me you're free on Thursday."

She laughed. "I'll tell you what I told your sister the other day: I'm unemployed, all I have is time. But, Mark really, do you want to be dating an unemployed bum?"

Mark hummed on the other end. "I'm not entirely sure. I do have a reputation to uphold, you know. I'm held very highly in some circles." His deep chuckle gave him away.

"Well, if you're willing to lower yourself to have dinner with me, I'm free as a bird."

Arranging to meet Thursday evening, they say goodnight to each other. Anneke sighed wistfully as she ended the call. He really was easy to talk to.

* * *

The non descript van was parked down the street again.

Anneke slung her bag strap over her arm and head and glared at the vehicle. Same number plate. It'll belong to one of the neighbours. She threw a final glance over her shoulder then took off down the street in the opposite direction. She must just be paranoid, surely. It's just a van. There's thousands of vans in this city. Nothing to get worked up about.

As she made her way down to the station in the mid morning light she absently looked over at the housing signs along the way. She should really look for a place for herself. As much as Pete and Hannah protested that they loved getting to know her, Anneke knew that she would be growing frustrated with visitors that wouldn't leave, no matter how close they were.

Pushing through the station gates she glanced over at the departures boards, checking to see that she was heading to the right platform. A tall man in a jacket and dark jeans passed close by, tapping something into his phone. "Oops!" She exclaimed. "Sorry." The man appeared not to notice their near collision and continued his brisk walk. Anneke smiled to herself. Honestly, Londoners are always in such a hurry.

Jumping through the doors of her train, Anneke snagged a seat and settled in, pulling her Kindle out of her bag. Absently waking it up, she looked out the still open doors and noticed the tall man running to catch the same train. Wasn't he headed in the opposite direction? She shook her head and called herself 'paranoid' in both English and Dutch.

Three hours later she was beginning to think she wasn't being paranoid after all. She kept seeing him. Having a coffee, reading the paper, buying something at a counter, window shopping. No, she was sure she wasn't imagining things. What tipped her over the edge was that damn van driving past the entrance of the station she hurried into. With heart thumping and a slight sweat breaking out over her body, Anneke nearly screamed when the phone clutched in her hand began to ring. Wedging herself into a corner under the station stairs she lifted the phone to her ear with a shaking hand.

"Hello?" She whispered.

"Anneke, it's Mark. How - are you..."

"Mark," she replied, her voice pitched higher than normal. "Ah, yes. I'm fine. Just a little - jumpy."

"You don't sound fine, what's happening?" His voice became serious. "Are you okay?"

Anneke closed her eyes took a few deep breaths and willed herself to calm down. On opening them, she caught sight of the tall man and gasped.

"Anneke!" Mark barked. "What's going on?"

"Mark," she breathed deep in an effort to hold back the tears. "I think I'm being followed."

There was a short silence on the other end of the line. Then, "I'm coming to get you."

"What? Wait, Mark!"

He hung up and she looked at the phone stunned. He didn't even know where she was, how was he supposed to... She spent the next ten minutes debating whether to just get on her train or to stay put. She was still in the alcove under the stairs but at least her heart had stopped trying to leap out of her chest and she couldn't see the tall man anymore. This didn't stop the shriek tear from her lips when she felt a hand close around her upper arm.

"Anneke! Stop! It's me!" Mark tried to close his arms around the woman flailing with fright.

"Shit! Mark! How the hell - " Anneke felt the tension drain out of her and allowed herself to be pulled into his warm embrace, pressing her cheek to his jacket, still cold from the outside.

"You said you were being followed, what happened?" She felt the vibrations of his voice rumble against her cheek. "Anneke?"

She pulled back and looked up at him. "How did you find me?"

He dismissed her question and asked again, "What happened?"

She swallowed and felt uncomfortable all of a sudden. After all, this was a man she'd only been out with once and spoken to only a few more times. He caught her attention by cupping one side of her face and forcing her eyes back to his. Staring into his sky blue eyes she said, "There's a van. And this guy," she tried to pull out of Mark's arms, but he held her tight. Giving up, she continued, "This guy, I keep seeing him. Everywhere, Mark. It's scaring me."

He stared down into her wide green eyes with conflict clear in his own. Loosening his grip, she slipped out of his arms and watched him carefully. "Mark -"

"Anneke," he interrupted. "I need to ask you something." He took her silence as assent and continued, "About Pete."

"Pete?"

"Could this have anything to do with him?"

"With Pete?" She asked incredulously.

"You mentioned his past the other night. Are you sure that's all over with?"

Anneke groped for her next words. Mark's chain of thought had her flustered. "I - I don't know. How am I- ?" The man was looking at her so intently she continued to speak, not sure what Pete had to do with anything, not sure why Mark would be interested. "Hannah said that - she said he said he was done. But I'm seeing him, he looks so tired and he's fighting with Bill, and..." Her eyes snapped up to his. "I don't know. I don't know..." Anneke whispered. "Maybe?"

"What if I told you we could find out what's going on."

Anneke's heart froze at his words. She blinked.

"Ani, we need your help."

Her green eyes met his blue and held. Her voice lowered. "What do you mean?" Each word felt heavy. Her body began to burn yet ice formed in her gut. Her lungs began to take in too much air again until she cracked.

"What do you mean!" Her voice rose, a touch of hysteria coloured her demand. Understanding was dawning on the woman.

She turned away from Mark, then whirled back. "You're not in finance, are you? No! Don't answer!" she snapped as his mouth opened. She pressed her knuckles to her forehead in a futile attempt to stop the growing pain shooting behind her eyes before dropping her hands to her hips. She glared hard at Mark with narrowed eyes, and commented in a deceptively calm voice, "You were so easy to talk to."

"We needed to know, Anneke. We need to know what's going on and how best to stop it."

"So you chose me," Anneke replied flatly. "You chose me to do this."

"We noticed you noticing things. You see things others don't and are so aware of what's going on, we knew that if anyone could find out if something was going on, you'd be the one to find out."

Anneke's hands moved from her hips to cross tightly across her chest. She felt as if she was going to burst. Humiliation washed through her. She pulled tighter with her arms, as if they could keep her from falling to pieces in front of whoever this man was. Preferring to focus on what Mark was saying rather than what she was feeling she lowered her gaze to her shuffling feet.

"I was right, wasn't I?"

Mark moved closer. "Yes."

"Something's happening with Pete's old gang."

"Yes. We've had your cousin under surveillance for several weeks now." He moved even closer to her, hesitantly reaching out a hand. She looked up from the floor noticing his movement and shied away from his touch. Hating herself for falling apart she turned her face away from him, but not before he saw her face crumble.

"We don't think he's in this for his health, he may have been coerced by others."

"Bobby and Bill," Anneke whispered, still not looking at him.

"That's what we suspect," Lucas said.

He wanted to see her eyes again. Pushing the boundaries, he reached out again to her, tenderly touching her shoulder. Anneke flinched at the contact, but she looked at him again. He could read anger, fear and what looked like relief in those clear green eyes.

"You said, 'we'".

* * *

Forty three minutes later, Anneke found herself seated at a table in a glass room, staring at a mug of what a lady named Ruth said was coffee. She reached for a third packet of sugar and ripped it open.

As she poured it into the cup, Mark opened the door. "Don't bother," he said, mouth twitching into his distinctive half-grin. "No amount of sugar will make that resemble coffee."

Unable to help herself, Anneke smiled back. Then she remembered where she was and her face fell again.

Lucas watched the sparkle leave Anneke's eyes and silently cursed the deception inherent in his line of work. She reached for her teaspoon and began to slowly and methodically stir her coffee. She spoke without looking up, "So, MI-5 has been monitoring my cousin, eh?" She tapped the spoon against the mug and laid it carefully on the table in front of her.

Lucas sat down at her end of the table. He would have to tread carefully, the fact that she trusted him enough to come to Thames House was a start, but it was no guarantee that she would agree to help them. He had led her on a merry chase before revealing his intentions. Whether his gut instinct to tell her the truth was a wise decision or not was still to be seen. He leaned forward on the table, hands folded together.

"We believe that Pete is involved with Britain Unite, a group with strong right wing political ties. We have also been watching William McInnes and Robert Ross. The attacks associated with Britain Unite in this city have been increasing, Anneke. We need to shut them down."

"Whatever it takes, right?"

He nodded carefully, ignoring the fact her comment was laced with sarcasm. "Whatever it takes," he repeated.

Anneke gave him an appraising look. Lucas resisted the urge to fiddle with the Official Secrets Act in front of him and stared back, waiting for her to make the next move.

"Fine," she said. "I'll do this. I'll be your - What did you call it?"

"Asset."

"I'll be your asset." A look of determination hardened her face. "I'm doing this to protect my family, you understand? I don't want them to be dragged into something that they don't want by people like Bill and Bobby."

"I understand, Anneke."

Pushing the Secrets Act over to her, Lucas watched as she read through the papers. He silently pushed a pen in her direction and continued to wait. The silence was even more deafening in contrast to the amiable small talk that usually filled their conversations. He was going to miss that. She signed the papers without another word and slid the papers back in his direction.

"So what happens now, Mark?"

"Now you go back home and watch Pete, especially with his interactions with McInnes and Ross. Find out what you can. There's some speculation that Britain Unite has gained a patron of sorts. From the European mainland."

"A patron?"

"It appears Snow White has noticed the group."

Anneke sucked in a sharp breath and the colour drained from her face. Sitting up in her chair she whispered harshly, "You're joking, right?"

"No joke. We need information, and we need it fast, Anneke. Whatever's going to happen, we strongly believe it'll happen soon."

She pressed her knuckles into her forehead briefly, a gesture Lucas was coming to realise she did when she was deeply disturbed.

"I'll do what I can," she fixed him with a determined look. "How am I meant to pass on information to you?"

Lucas shifted a little in his chair. Throwing her an apologetic glance he said, "I thought we could continue to see each other."

Anneke looked stunned for a moment before she let out a bark of laughter. She choked on her breath a while longer, the parody of laughter not reaching her eyes.

"Oh, boy. I sure do know how to pick them." She leaned forward on her knees and took a deep breath. Looking up at him from the lower viewpoint she smirked. "I bet you're seeing someone else, too. A nice looking man like you..." The smirk faded when Lucas said nothing, and refused to meet her gaze. "Of course you're seeing someone else," she breathed. "Well, shit, Mark. I hope she knows what you do for a living or things could get awkward."

"She does," he answered stiffly.

"Good, I suppose."

Suddenly hating the position he put this vulnerable woman in, Lucas couldn't bring himself to just leave the room. Instead he began to gather the papers together in front of him. Anneke's brows suddenly snapped together and she reached out to snag his wrist. Jumping at the sudden contact, he resisted the urge to pull out of her grip, instead allowing her to turn his arm over so his palm was face up. With her other hand she gently pushed his sleeve up, displaying the tattoos decorating the surface. Just as carefully, she pulled it back down, and looked at him with an expression of utter horror and sadness. Lucas could tell she knew where they came from. She then leaned back in her seat and took another deep breath, face draining of expression.

"Wendy," Anneke broke the awkward silence. "Wendy's one of you too, isn't she?"

"Yeah."

"Huh." Anneke looked down at her hands twisted in her lap. "I really liked her."

"Anneke –"

"It's okay, Mark," she flashed him a brief smile. "I understand. I do. This is your job. And now, it's mine."


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: I'd love to thank everyone who's been reviewing and making this story into (what I think) a better one than what I started with!**

**Cheers to: VelocityGirl1980, Batteredpen, LadyDunla, lexie2, Sparky75, NavyLady, and Antonia Caenis.**

**I appreciate you all giving the n00b a go!**

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

She just wanted this day to be over.

Anneke sat silently in the passenger seat of the black Lexus Mark insisted on driving her home in. She shifted her gaze to the man next to her, his features golden from the setting sun. As golden as his intentions. Her lip curled. As if sensing her regard, he glanced quickly at her then turned back to the road.

"What is it?" He asked.

"Will you stop following me now?"

"What do you mean?"

She sighed with exasperation. "The vans, the guy who was following me today?"

Not looking at her as he swung the car into a road more familiar to her, he said, "It's not up to me, Anneke."

"Really?" She wasn't convinced.

"Really. And it's as much to protect you as it is us."

She resisted the urge to make a snarky comment. She was better than that. It was the embarrassment of almost falling for this guy that was turning her thoughts nasty. But it wasn't really about her, was it? Lucky her, being close enough to the so-called leaders of this 'Britain Unite'. But she couldn't help but wonder how far Mark would have gone had she not noticed the tails placed on her. She had revealed quite a lot about her family even on that first date, how much more if they had actually started sleeping together?

Anneke winced at the thought. She didn't doubt that he was capable of doing so for 'Queen and Country'. How many others had been caught up like this in the protection of Britain?

"I didn't mean to take away your choice," Mark suddenly murmured, his deep voice even lower pitched than normal.

Anneke looked sharply at him. Was that... regret in that statement? No, he must be playing her again, trying to get back to the position he held before the shit hit the fan. He's no newbie at this.

"I'll be fine, Mark," she snapped. "You just make sure you do your job. The sooner this is over, the better, right?"

She'll be fine. Sure. Just be a good girl and spy on your cousin for us. She was feeling sick, her stomach tightening at the thought of what she had to do. The only true family she's known and this is what happens. Karma could really bite.

The car pulled up in front of the Dijkstra house and Anneke didn't bother looking at Mark again as she moved to unlock her seat belt. His large hand suddenly covered hers. Jerking it away, she stared open mouthed at him, left hand hovering mid-air, seat belt still secure. No. She did not just feel that. She didn't feel anything. Whatever that was that they had, it's well and truely over.

Mark just stared intently into her wide eyes. Bastard knew exactly what he was doing.

Anneke whipped her hand back down and swiftly unlocked her seat belt. "Do not do that. Not now," she ground out.

She pulled herself out of the car and shut the door behind her with more force than necessary and hastily made her way to the house. She didn't turn around as she heard the Lexus idle for a few moments, then slowly pull away.

* * *

After a night of little sleep, Anneke trudged into the kitchen, trying to think of anything except the events of the day before. What she had to do. Seeing Hannah the night before, all excited and naïve about her coming home in Mark's car, bolstered her belief that this was the right thing to do. Hannah would stay this innocent. These men would not tear her family apart.

She found Hannah pacing in the kitchen. The younger woman looked up as Anneke entered and she knew exactly what was going on.

"Bill's here again, isn't he?"

"Bobby too," Hannah muttered, a frustrated tone slipping into her normally bright voice. "I don't know what's going on, but I don't like it, Anneke. They're here far too often."

Anneke rubbed her cousin's back reassuringly, "It's okay, Han. It's going to be okay."

Hannah gave her such a look of trust, Anneke broke out in a sweat. "Really?"

Anneke nodded stiffly and, against her better judgement, leaned closer to whisper, "I'm going to make sure it's okay."

"Thank you, Ani."

Not able to stand deceiving her cousin, Anneke left the kitchen in a rush. She leaned against the hallway wall and tried to squeeze the tension out from behind her eyes, pressing her fist into her forehead. Holding back a sob, she covered her mouth with a hand to stop any sound escaping. As her breathing eased, her ears pricked at the sound of Pete's voice coming from his small office at the back of the house. The sooner this ends, the better. She quickly opened her bag sitting next to Hannah's on the hall table and took out her phone. Switching it on, she held it close to her chest to muffle any sounds it would make while warming up and skimmed across the floor and out the back door. Moving lightly down the side of the house, Anneke crept underneath the windows until she heard the three men above her. Pulling her phone away from her chest, she flicked through the menu until she came to a dictation app she had previously downloaded on a whim. Hands shaking, she slid the phone up onto the window sill and scampered back inside.

* * *

Lucas watched the Dutch woman poke her food with her fork. Her face was drawn, but her mouth pulled into a determined grimace as she glanced back up at him. Sliding his eyes away from hers, he pressed a hand to his ear to press the earbud closer.

The noise from the pub around them faded as he listened to the conversation between McInnes, Ross and Dijkstra Anneke managed to record on her phone that morning.

It wasn't very long, she had only managed to capture less than a minute before the men left the room, but it held enough information for the team to follow up.

The recording ended and Lucas pulled the earbud he was using from his ear. "This is good, Ani. Anneke," he corrected himself as she glanced sharply at him.

"I know it's not much," she turned her gaze away and shrugged awkwardly. "But those men need to be gone."

"No, really. It's good. I wouldn't have thought of using my phone like that." He gave a small smile, "I like to think I'm no Luddite, but half the time I feel I'm playing catch up with technology."

"Don't feel bad, being unemployed leaves you with plenty of time to play around in the App Store." Her mouth twisted, almost a grin. "Did you know there's an app that shows you where the closest loo is? Great fun."

Lucas' heart sped up as caught the smile. It was the first he'd seen since that time on the Grid. There had been nothing else all night. Anneke had thrown open the door and forced him back down the front steps of the Dijkstra's house, closely following behind when he arrived To pick her up. To avoid any interaction with the family, he presumed. There had been no encouragement at all from the woman, just a steely silence and the occasional unreadable glance in his direction.

"Oh, yeah?" His tone remained light, and he teasingly raised an eyebrow. "Need that one often, do we?"

She caught on. "Of course not," she huffed. "All that coffee I drink is magically absorbed into my skin, giving me lovely, coffee toned..." She held up a pale hand. "...hmm, maybe not."

He chuckled, and she reluctantly let her mouth be pulled into a wider smile. Silence fell and he found her again watching him intently. He was suddenly aware of the space between them in the darkened corner booth he procured for them, out of sight to most of the patrons. He twisted his legs closer, facing her more fully, and took a quick breath.

"Don't," she whispered.

Caught with his ill thought out apology half formed, Lucas' mouth opened, then closed. His lips twisted to the side. "You must hate me."

Anneke van Leeuwen was not a vindictive person, he knew that, so her words were not entirely unexpected. "Of course not."

She was still whispering, so he slid an arm along the back of the booth and faced her fully, their knees briefly making contact. She sucked in a short breath and held up her hands defensively. "But you're going to have to stop doing that."

He leaned back a little, realisation flooding him. Then came the guilt, and not a little satisfaction. That latter he quickly buried, not wanting to deal with the implications of that particular emotion. "I'm sorry," the apology came out huskier than intended.

He found himself flushing under her heated gaze. Swiftly, Anneke's face twisted. "Stop playing with me," she hissed.

She grabbed her bag and slid out of the booth. As she stalked towards the ladies' room, Lucas dropped his face into his hands. What the hell _was_ he doing? He dragged his hands down his cheeks.

He sighed and got to work, copying the data from the mobile Anneke had left behind onto his own for Tariq to access later.


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N: I love my reviewers. It's official. I want to marry all of you. I told my husband. He just shrugged and asked if you're all hot. **

**I assured him you all were.**

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

Anneke had stopped returning her messages. Jo tapped her fingers on the desk of her workstation anxiously, knowing on the one hand that the woman had every right to cut her off, but on the other knew that this sudden silence may ring alarm bells for the already wound up Dijkstra.

She remembered her conversation with Lucas that morning about the woman. He had been giving a recording from the new asset to Tariq, and Jo asked how Anneke was handling the pressure. A thoughtful frown crossed Lucas' face. "I'm not entirely sure, Jo," he responded. "She digs for information on Dijkstra, and has been even before I told her the truth, but then - " he contemplated the floor. "It's like she can't bear it. Just one more thing will tip her over the edge." He shrugged. "Maybe I'm reading too much into it."

The chiming of 'Wendy's' phone was an answer to prayers and Jo snatched it up.

COFFEE? NEED TO TALK

Jo sighed in relief. Anneke had started to grow on her and she missed the easy rapport they had shared before real life reared it's ugly head. She looked over at Harry's office, where Ros and Lucas sat in front their boss' desk. Ros looked as cool as ever, legs crossed and hands resting on the chairs' armrests. Lucas looked a little tense, arms crossed over his chest, his focus on the desk in front of him, rather than on the other two in the room. The same frown from that morning marred his features. Maybe the Dutch woman was growing on Lucas too. What a shame they couldn't have met under different circumstances.

Jo replied to the message.

SURE. WHEN AND WHERE?

The reply came back less than a minute later.

GEORGINA'S. TODAY AT 2?

Jo texted back with relief.

GREAT. SEE YOU THERE

Ros and Lucas walked out of Harry's office. The Section Chief stopped next to Jo's workstation and perched herself on the edge of her desk.

"Anneke's contacting me again," Jo told Ros, pleased. "We're meeting this afternoon for coffee."

"Good," Ros nodded. "The recording she made for us has proved more useful than we originally thought. McInnes made some reference to the Puritans. We've since discovered this is a US based group similar to Britain Unite, but on a much larger scale. Good news is, the Puritans are on the CIA's hit list. If we can prove funds were coming from them, we have cause to arrest McInnes."

Lucas grabbed his jacket and headed out the door without a glance in their direction.

"Lucas is off to speak with our American friend now," Ros added with a twitch of the lips. It was no secret that Ros and Sarah Caulfield disliked each other.

Following his exit with her eyes, Jo chuckled, "Let's hope he makes it back in one piece."

"Only if he wants to make it back in one piece..." Ros winked at Jo and slid off her desk.

* * *

Finishing his brief phone call to Sarah, Lucas headed over to a park walking distance from Thames House, hands shoved in pockets against the icy wind that was gusting between the buildings he passed.

Jogging across the street, dodging cars and cyclists, he slowed down as he entered the park. Sarah wouldn't arrive for a few minutes yet. She sounded eager to meet, surprisingly, since her usual tone was a sardonic drawl, not letting anyone know how she felt one way or the other. Not even her MI-5 lover.

Lucas spotted her several minutes later, collar of her long coat pulled up in defense against the stiff breeze, long blonde hair whipping out across her face. She was sporting a small smile as she saw him leaning against the trunk of a large oak.

"Lucas," she greeted. "Long time no see."

"Sarah," he replied, leaning down to kiss her lightly.

"How goes the investigation?" She asked, snuggling close to him as he slung a long arm across her shoulders.

Setting off at a slow pace, Lucas looked down at her before replying, "Things are moving along at a good pace." He looked down at her with an apologetic half-grin. "As much as I wish this was just a social call, I'm here to ask a favour."

"What good are friends in high places if we can't abuse the privilege once in a while, huh, Lucas?" She teased. "What do you need to know?"

Lucas proceeded to summarise what they hope to find out about McInnes' mysterious cash fund, and whether any of it could be tied to the Puritans.

"I'll look into it," Sarah said, thinking hard. "It'll be a mess if the Puritans get a foothold here."

"That goes without saying," Lucas agreed.

She peered up at Lucas though lowered lashes and gently shoved a hip into him, grinning slyly. "Also without saying is your little operation with your little Dutch asset."

Lucas stiffened a little but covered it with a laugh. "Well, she's not little, to start with. I don't have to bend double to see into her eyes." His eyes sparkled at her with humour.

Sarah gasped with mock offence and poked him in the side. "Low blow, Lucas!"

"Low being the operative word here."

"Oo, you little jerk!" She shoved him, giggling.

Lucas laughed again and hauled her up close, tangling his fingers in her blonde locks. "Say that again," he whispered, nose touching hers.

"You little jerk," she breathed, eyes locking on his. He took her lips hard and she opened her mouth in a gasp, which he took full advantage of. She gave as good as she got, twisting her arms around his neck and pressing her slight frame tight against his. They pulled apart to gasp for air, eyes closed and breath mingling as Lucas' forehead rested on her own.

"Come see me tonight."

Lucas started at her softly spoken plea. Opening her eyes, she saw the hesitation in there for a split second before his gaze softened and he smiled gently.

"I will," he replied, and he kissed her again, lips soft and patient where they before they were hard and demanding. He released her from his embrace and Sarah swayed a moment before regaining her footing.

"Thank you, Sarah."

She returned his smile and he turned away, shoulders hunched against the wind. The smile faded from her face as she watched him leave.

* * *

Anneke argued with herself for hours. She had received several messages from Wendy after the 'Big Reveal'. The pragmatic side of her brain pointed out quite clearly that the woman had a job to do, and she did it well. MI-5 were dealing with some serious threats and they did what they thought was best to gain information.

But the side of her that was situated closer to her heart ached that it wasn't real. She had met two great people in the past few weeks, and both of them were not real. It was a blow to the wound left by Willem and the humiliation sat heavy in her gut.

The night following Mark's revelation was so long. She wanted to run. Again. Just pack her bags and take off, like when she left Heerenveen. But the difference was that this time she had something to lose. She even had a task now. A mission. She needed to save her family. She rubbed her eyes with a tired hand. Even if it was from themselves.

That thought had her sending a quick text message to Wendy on Friday morning, not really thinking about what they would talk about, but knowing they needed to talk.

Anneke walked hesitantly into Georgina's Cafe just after two that afternoon, almost expecting Wendy to look different now that she knew the truth. It was both a relief and a disappointment to see the woman looking exactly the same as when they caught up the other week. Wendy's big blue eyes trained themselves on her as she approached the corner table.

Standing awkwardly by the small table, Anneke quietly said, "Hi Wendy. How are you?"

Wendy gave a kind smile and motioned for Anneke to sit down. "I'm fine, Anneke."

She studied the Dutch woman's face for a moment, tiny furrows forming on her smooth forehead, and asked with concern, "Are you dealing with this okay?"

Anneke gave a soft snort and looked away from Wendy's penetrating gaze. "As best I can, I suppose, given my cousin is allegedly some sort of terrorist." She wouldn't mention Mark. There was only so much she could admit to out loud.

Wendy reached forward and caught one of Anneke's hands in her own. "We're doing all we can so we can stop whatever's going on. We really are."

Staring for a moment at Wendy's hand on hers, she waited for the familiar shock she often felt with Mark's touch, even subconsciously knowing this woman wouldn't set off her senses like he did. Anneke only felt a comforting warmth. Nothing more. She looked up and smiled ruefully, "I know."

"How about we order some coffees? I have a bit of news that may help," Wendy said as she leaned back in her seat. Anneke nodded. Anything to make her feel better about this whole situation would be welcomed.

* * *

The Grid was abuzz when Jo walked in after meeting with Anneke.

"Jo!" Lucas called over, "We have it."

"What?" She rushed over to where Harry and the whole team were gathered around Tariq's workstation. "What do you have?"

"Sarah has sent us evidence that some of the funds McInnes has been receiving may have been from the Puritans. It's enough for us to arrest him under the anti-terrorism laws."

"That's great!" Jo enthused.

"We're mobilising a team now to collect him," Harry said. "Divide and conquer," he muttered, almost to himself.

Ros gave Jo a congratulatory pat on the back. "Good work, Jo. And you too, Lucas," she added, looking up at him. "It was a good pick up with finding Anneke. Let's hope she can get us more."


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N: Happy Christmas everyone! We are now approaching the pointy end of the story. Not long to go now!**

**Will the team shut down Britain Unite?**

**Will Lucas and Jo ruthlessly use Anneke again?**

**Will Anneke ever switch to decaf?**

**All these and more will be answered...**

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

"I canna! No! Don't make me!"

"This is a bit much, McInnes! You're done!"

"They're not! They're not done!"

"Then tell us! Come on, McInnes. You tell us and then we'll have them. You'll be safe."

"You're never safe. Not from them. No one is, no one safe..."

Ros burst out of the interrogation room, door slamming against the wall before swinging shut again. McInnes sat handcuffed to a chair, quietly sobbing, the sound cut off as the guard locked it behind the frustrated Section Chief. Lucas caught up with her as she headed back to the lifts. He had watched the interrogation over the video monitors and was growing as irritated as Ros over McInnes' fear of giving up Snow Whites' intentions and locations.

"It looks as though Britain Unite was recruited by Snow White several months ago with funding coming from other various groups including the Puritans, but now, it seems, they're in over their heads and whoever is running this little operation has put the fear of God into them," Ros spat in one breath as the lift rose.

"We'll get them, Ros," Lucas spoke calmly. "Everyone has a breaking point."

She looked sharply at her Senior Case Officer. He met her eyes briefly before turning them back towards the doors. They travelled to Section D's level in silence.

* * *

The late night interrogation saw a bleary eyed Lucas stumble early Saturday morning onto the Grid. He didn't get to keep his date with Sarah the night before. When he rang to explain, Sarah had just laughed softly at the situation she had caused herself by being far too efficient with information.

Tariq and Ruth were already at Ruth's desk, poring over papers and pointing things out on the monitors.

"Did you two make it home last night?" Lucas asked, surprised.

Ruth dismissed his question with a wave of the hand and glanced over at him, her eyes bright. "Something's happening, Lucas. Something big. And soon."

He leaned over her desk, brows knitted together. "Any idea what?"

"If we're looking for a Snow White-style attack, there's plenty of potential targets," Tariq spoke up. "In the next week, there's four multicultural festivals, a march for marriage equality, an Islamic holiday and countless public bilingual story times held in parks all over the city. But Ruth reckons the march will be the target."

"Tariq recovered partial emails sent to Ross and McInnes in the last week," Ruth nodded at the young tech, who beamed in response. Lucas raised his eyebrows, impressed. The elusive emails had put Tariq in the touchiest mood Lucas had ever seen the man in. "The emails elude to a prince asking another prince to dance, or some such nonsense. But," the analyst raised a finger, "Chatter and monitoring message boards, social networking sites and private messaging also point to the march, to Monday. There's been nothing pointing to anything else. Not on the same scale." Ruth held Lucas' gaze. "It's no coincidence, Lucas. Something will happen at that march."

"What do we know about the possible nature of the attack?"

Ruth pulled a file out from beneath several pages and began leafing through it. "These type of groups are a different kettle of fish than other, more religious based extremist groups. They trade in fear and words, such as the IRA in the 70s and 80s. They do not send in suicide bombers. Drive by shootings, bombs in packages left behind in buildings and guerrilla style attacks where the perpetrators can get away are more their style. We'll need to have eyes on that march. Lots of eyes."

"There's something else too," Tariq added. "As I've managed to partially break the code that was bouncing the IP addresses all over the place, I can confirm that for the last month, at least, the emails sent to our three ringleaders have been coming from here."

"Here?" Lucas asked, "As in the UK?"

"Here, as in London."

Lucas sucked in a sharp breath, and looked down at Tariq again. "Any chance of narrowing the location down?"

"I'm trying, I really am. But the code is a tough one." Tariq looked thoughtful. "Is McInnes talking? Would you be able to get it out of him?"

Lucas grimaced. "Ros and Harry are down there again. For a guy with an arrest record smaller than my tie collection, he's surprisingly close-mouthed about the whole thing. Snow White scares the shit out this man."

Ruth touched Lucas' arm, gaining his attention, "Since we know the emails are being sent from here, maybe Anneke could find out?"

"Maybe."

"If I could get my hands on Dijkstra's laptop, just for a minute or two," Tariq looked again at Lucas, "I might be able to narrow it down a whole lot faster."

It took a second for Lucas to make his decision.

"I'll call Anneke."

* * *

Anneke must have looked suitably surprised when Hannah told her about Bill's arrest. Hannah herself looked quietly thrilled.

"The police must have found something against him, Ani!" She whispered excitedly. "Now he's finally away from Pete!"

"Let's hope there's some evidence to keep him locked up for now," Anneke replied cautiously.

"Of course there would be!" Hannah retorted.

The jangling of Anneke's ringtone from the depths of her bag in the hall interrupted the pair.

"Sorry, Han," Anneke leaped up from the couch.

The smiles were already returning to her cousin's face. "Ooo!" She teased, "Is it sexy Mark?"

The Dutch woman snorted and fished her phone out. Seeing that it was, indeed, Mark, she answered as she quickly headed to her room.

"Yes?"

"Anneke, are you alone?"

She closed her bedroom door behind her. "Now I am."

"There's something going down very soon," he said in a low voice. "Our tech staff are trying their best but there's something you could do that would help greatly."

"What?"

"We need Pete's laptop."

Anneke's stomach dipped. "How am I supposed to get that? He takes it everywhere."

"Just - try. Please Anneke."

"Why do you need it? I thought everything was online?" Surely they didn't need the actual physical laptop?

"It's something to do with sourcing the emails," he sighed.

"What emails?"

"I can't - Look, I can't talk about it over the phone. Can I explain it later?"

Anneke was becoming familiar with the twisting in her gut. The hot and cold that warred for dominance. The humiliation and fear.

"Will you do it? Time is running out," he pleaded. No, the thought occurred to her suddenly, he demanded. She had no choice; he really had taken it away.

She hesitated for too long. "Anneke, please!" Mark began to sound impatient.

"Fine!" She spat. "It'll probably be left in his office tonight. How long do you need it for?"

There was the sound of muffled voices on the other end of the line, then Mark said, "Less than ten minutes."

"Two am. I'll be outside." She hung up before he could force her to do anything else. She pressed her knuckles into her forehead for a moment before dumping her phone on the bed and shaking the tension out of her hands. When she eventually walks out to her cousin-in-law she needed to look like a woman in the throes of infatuation, not like she wanted to put a hole through the wall.

* * *

Lucas spotted movement from the side of the Dijkstra house several painfully long minutes after Anneke's agreed time to meet. She avoided the street lights and made her way carefully to the road. He opened the van door where he and Tariq had camped out and couldn't help but ask as he jumped out, "Did something go wrong?"

She gave him a glare of such loathing that he took a step back. "It's all wrong, Mark. Here's the laptop." She almost threw it at him.

Lucas turned to give it to Tariq, who was staring at the pair in open curiosity. He closed the van doors on the techie and turned carefully to Anneke. Tariq didn't need to hear this.

The woman had crossed her arms tightly across her chest and turned away from Lucas, taking a few steps further up the street.

"If it makes you feel any better, Ani, this may be the big break of the operation."

She didn't look at him; she stared instead into the darkness of the quiet street. Lucas began to grow anxious. "You're not having second thoughts, are you?"

She pinned him with her narrowed green eyes. "Don't be stupid. I didn't walk into this with my eyes closed."

"Then why are you so angry?"

Her jaw dropped. "Why - ?" She marched up to him and shoved him in the chest. "I'm fucking spying on my family! My family!"

He recovered from the short shove and turned on the woman. "Don't deny you weren't doing that already. You were watching your cousin as closely as you are now."

"That's different!" She gasped.

"Hardly," he growled. "You knew there was something wrong and now you're taking it out on me."

"You can hardly blame me, can you?" She snarled back. "You aren't exactly the innocent party in all this."

Fury and guilt flooded him and Lucas wasn't sure if he should glare at the woman or turn away from her angry green eyes. The glare won. "You think you're the only victim here? You think this is all about your hurt feelings?" He stepped closer, using his height to his advantage. "Tell that to the man who had his belly sliced open by your cousin's mates. Who watched his boyfriend die." As her jaw betrayed her tension, he gently lowered his head and reached for her shoulder. "Don't you see what we're trying to do?"

"Don't," she spat, slapping his hand away. "Don't make this about the greater good. I fucking know it's about the greater good. But the greater good doesn't have to live with the fact that it's cousin may be a terrorist. That the man it was attracted to was using it to get close to its cousin."

Lucas felt his anger melt under her admission. "Ani," his voice gentled further.

"_You_ don't call me Ani! _Friends_ call me Ani!" Her voice cracked.

Anneke twisted away, facing the dark end of the street again.

The guilt came to the forefront. Usually able to think on his feet, Lucas floundered. Anneke's voice was hollow as it echoed back to him.

"In my head, Mark, I know what you're doing. You're a hero, you all are. The real sort. The ones no one knows about. The heroes who stop a bus load of kids from being blown up, and walks away, no one the wiser. The heroes who shelter a reformed terrorist from his former comrades so he can testify against them, but is vilified by the media as a panderer to foreign governments." Her voice dropped. "A hero who survives a Russian prison as a British spy and covers the scars so no one remembers. You do what I can't, what no one else will, and that makes you a hero."

Lucas froze in stunned silence as Anneke turned back to him, tears in her eyes. The first time she let him see them.

"But I wanted it to be real," she whispered. "Silly me." The spook shook himself out of the spell she had woven around him.

"Anneke," Lucas lowered his voice to match her whisper and shifted close again. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. That was never my intention." He reached out and brushed a lock of blonde hair away from her eyes. There was a kind of desperate joy in being able to touch her again which he locked away with whatever else he felt for this woman.

She didn't slap away the fingers that had begun to trace their way down her cheek, but she didn't relax either. She just caught his eyes with hers. They almost glowed with the intensity of her words.

"I'm a selfish woman, Mark. But what I'm going through means nothing. What I want doesn't matter." Her voice become stronger. "What you're doing is important. This is so no one else dies."

His fingers froze for a moment on her cheekbones, his brain insisting that they be removed immediately. They slid to cup her face instead. Before his brain could start screaming at him again, the van doors opened.

"I'm done," Tariq spoke quickly, knowing he interrupted something between the spook and the asset. Lucas took a step back, dropping his hand from her face. Anneke walked over to the van and Tariq handed over Pete's laptop.

"Thanks," Tariq said.

"No problem," Anneke replied with a hesitant smile. She threw a glance back at Lucas and started to head back to the house. Studying Lucas, Tariq wisely decided that it wouldn't be the best time to ask how it was going with Sarah.

* * *

Anneke had barely settled in for what she was expecting to be a sleepless night when she heard the muffled slam of a car door outside the house. Heart thumping, she leapt out of bed and rushed over to the window overlooking the side and part of the front of the house, both hoping and dreading it was Mark. The figure standing in the shadows was, however, not Mark. The glow of his mobile lit up his heavy features, then he waited, leaning his wide frame on the car door.

Anneke felt sick with the realisation that if Bobby had arrived only minutes beforehand she would have been spotted sneaking back into the house. That was just too close. She snapped to attention when her cousin emerged from the front of the house, pulling an old woollen jumper over his head, his legs clad in checkered pyjama pants. Bobby waved a small box toward Pete, but the young man shook his head. Shrugging, he took a cigarette out for himself, his face lighting up again, this time with the glow of a lighter.

Without pausing to think, Anneke pulled back from the window and threw on her own thick jumper and a pair of runners.

Slipping out the back door and silently making her way back down the side of the house, she crouched low so she wouldn't be seen over the hip-high fence circling their yard. She stopped when she heard her cousin's harsh whisper. The frantic note was becoming all too familiar.

"I don't want to do this, Bobby. I really don't. It's gone too far and I swore to Hannah-" Pete paused. "This may be our chance, y'know? It's not too late. With Bill bein' taken in maybe..."

The younger man hit a note of desperation. "Maybe we could back out righ' now, and jus' walk away, Bobby."

She heard the other man sigh.

"Pete, mate," Bobby bit out, his voice harsh. "At this point we have no choice. You said it yerself, it's gone too far. You know they're watching us. Of course they're watching us. They've been fucking emailing us for weeks!" A sharp inhale, and exhale. Cigarette smoke wafted over Anneke's head. "You want to go to the cops? Na ah, no way. What these fuckers can do to us is much worse."

She heard some shuffling, a few scrapes across the concrete footpath, someone pacing and Pete groaned softly.

"Yer goin' soft on me, aren't cha?" Bobby's voice held a mixture of amazement and fear. "You don't get to go soft on me, y'little prick. We got to do this now!"

"But I didn't want this-"

Anneke heard a thump and a short grunt and instinctively raised herself to look, to see what happened, but caught herself in time. She pressed herself against the fence, her breath coming in shallow pants.

"You don't go soft!" Bobby growled. "We see this through!" More scraping on the concrete as one of the men stumbled and caught himself.

"We see this through," Bobby whispered.

"Bobby-"

The sound of a car door slamming broke the stillness of the night, and Bobby, it appeared, had left her cousin alone on the dark footpath.


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N: This chapter was meant to be up sooner, but it was kicking my arse all over the place. It mutated, Godzilla-like and made itself a whole new chapter. **

**Thank you all again for your wonderful reviews and another follow! If you keep it up, I may even WRITE MORE! *gasp* Don't say I didn't warn you...**

**You'll have to forgive me if I mess up some of the Spooks jargon here. Or, even better - if you know I got something wrong, let me know! I will be forever grateful.**

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

The morning of the 'Love is Equal: Marriage For All March' was unseasonably warm. The skies were clear, with only a distant threat of clouds hovering in the distance. Clouds were also gathering over the faces of the two march organisers, George and Mary.

"I don't like this idea," argued George, crossing his arms. "We'll be risking lives here, that's unacceptable."

Both Ros and Lucas had adopted professional, yet caring, personas.

"I see where you're coming from, Mr Stannis," Ros tried to inject just the right amount of imploring in her tone, without coming over as indecisive, "but try to understand, we have a real chance here at stopping a violent gang from offending ever again. We're not going to risk this operation by being sloppy and allowing anything to happen to the civilians in the march."

"But why do this on our march?" He continued loudly. "Why risk us?"

Mary was beginning to look agitated. Lucas knew this argument had to be shut down now, and, glancing at Ros, knew that she was thinking the same.

"The children," Lucas interrupted George's tirade.

The other man paused mid sentence. "What?"

"The gang that we are trying to stop here today are attempting to emulate a group overseas," he gauged Ros' reaction to his almost-truth. Concluding that she approved, he continued, "Do you remember the attack by Snow White last year?"

Mary gasped and George swore. "The Storytime Massacre?"

Lucas nodded.

"George," Mary turned to her partner, "let them do this. There's less children here to hurt."

George nodded numbly. "Do it," he mumbled.

* * *

Many people would believe that surveillance is rather unexciting, but Tessa Chen, the Technical Surveillance Officer, would disagree. Ever since she was a young girl she loved to people-watch and to be recruited fresh out of university by MI-5 was a dream come true. Contemplating her life choices was not something she expected to be doing the day of the big operation.

The surveillance on Dijkstra had continued, despite the fact that Section D now had an asset on the inside. Early Monday morning, the early shift had followed Dijkstra to his small office in South London where he coordinated his 'Jack of all trades' business. There was the usual flurry as the tradies and apprentices collected various assignments and paperwork. And if there were less around that morning than usual, the first shift didn't notice. Tessa would have.

"So what's happening, dude?" The young woman greeted Liam with a smile and a tall vanilla latte at the changing of the guard, as she like to call it, at lunchtime that day.

He yawned, covering his mouth with the back of his fingers. "Nothing much." He gratefully accepted the coffee and leaned back in his seat, his skin mottled red and blue from the equipment in the back of the van. "Dijkstra's there on his own. Ross left about twenty minutes ago. There was one other guy. Didn't recognise him. I called it in."

"Cool," she replied. She slid into her own seat and began going through her usual checks. Liam smirked at the woman perfecting her work area. He couldn't make fun of her though, there was a reason she was powering through the technical ranks at work.

Tessa was a little buzzed that day, the adrenalin was high with the big operation at the march going down. The march was due to start about half past twelve and she was secretly pumped at being in charge of the surveillance team on Djikstra. So when the time ticked past the start of the march and further into the afternoon and the suspect still hadn't made a move out of his office, Tessa's first instinct was to blame the excitement. Her second came not thirty seconds later when she came to the realisation she could hear nothing from the bugs in the office.

"Do you hear anything?" She whispered to Liam.

"Like what?"

"Anything?"

Liam's eyes widened. "Oh shit," he breathed.

"Turn up the range," she ordered. As the man did so, she pulled on a pair of headphones. She stared at Liam in growing horror as he pulled on his own. A wet rattle filled their ears. Tessa ripped off the headphones and contacted Comms.

"Ros here," a terse voice answered.

"Visual unit three," Tessa blurted. "Something's wrong here. Request assistance."

"Done. Two agents to your location." Tessa was cut off. Both the techs then glued their eyes to the screens showing the front and side entrances to the ground level office. Three minutes later they spotted the promised two agents sidling up to the building, guns in hands.

The bang of the door being kicked open made them both jump, as the sound was amplified through the speakers and abandoned headphones. They both heard one of the agents call Comms, "Suspect is down. Request immediate medical assistance."

* * *

Jo was surprised with the sea of people at the march; it had to be at least a ten thousand strong crowd. Impressive for a Monday afternoon. Strolling with the chanting and singing crowd, she instinctively turned her face away from the news cameras skimming the marchers as an attractive reporter expressively gestured behind him. Comms murmured in her ear the various status updates of the agents in the crowd. Ruth's advice was taken to heart and there were agents like herself, in the crowd, stationary on street level, and on the high viewpoints such as roofs and windows offering a good view of the march route. Sharpshooters were also employed up there, but Jo prayed they wouldn't be needed today.

"Alpha Two, status update," Ros' voice cut through the noise of the marchers directly into her ear. The Section Chief was coordinating the operation from a van strategically parked at the halfway point of the march. Tariq was with her, a rare venture into the field, monitoring CCTV footage.

"No visual of suspects," Jo spoke under her breath. "Approaching south east corner of Rush and Main."

Lucas' response placed him at the other end of the crowd, several hundred metres up the road. Nothing.

She ambled along, smiling at the marchers, while continuing to scan faces. Further up the crowd, as the march turned right following the organisers instructions, there was a sudden hush. Jo immediately felt off. Stepping onto the footpath for a better view, straining to see in Lucas' direction, she murmured into her Comms, "Alpha One, heads -"

A roar came from the street the marchers were turning into, and all hell broke loose.

* * *

Lucas felt the hush and instinctively stepped out of the crowd, backing up to an old warehouse. Jo's warning came not a half second later and then the march was swamped with a sea of black and red from behind him.

"Back up! We need back up!" he yelled into his Comms. His eyes darted as chaos ensued but had no time to react as one of the dozens of Britain Unite thugs decided Lucas could christen his crowbar. Leaping out of range for his first swing, Lucas rushed forward before the thug could swing again, holding down his weapon arm and thrusting the heel of his palm into his face. The sharp blow caught the man on the chin, the red handkerchief tied around his mouth and nose doing little to soften the blow, and his head snapped back. His attacker dropped to the ground, and Lucas ripped the crowbar out of his weakened grip and held it close. One less weapon for them.

Unfortunately, the scuffle drew the attention of two other thugs, both wearing similar red handkerchiefs over their faces and one with a black beanie pulled over his hair. They began advancing on Lucas as he raised his borrowed weapon and began to back off, angling to the side so he had time to fight one off before the other could reach him. The wail of sirens cut through the screams and yells and grabbed the thugs' attentions, both turning to see where the police were coming from. Lucas took the opportunity to swing the crowbar into the back of the beanied thug's knees, who let out a cry as his knees smashed into the concrete. His mate cursed and came at Lucas, a small blade appearing in his hand. Lucas swore himself as his weapon became caught under the thug who dropped and skipped backwards again, hands up as if surrendering. A rush of civilians threw themselves between the pair in a desperate attempt to get away from the violent intruders and Lucas took the opportunity to take off.

"Jo? Ros? Talk to me!"

Ros' voice cut through, "Alpha One, the police are here. Get out of there. Report from Visual Unit Three-"

Three loud shots fired in quick succession. The crowd descended into further chaos, the screams intensifying.

"Shit!" Lucas was shoved into a wall. "Alpha Leader, was that us?"

"Lucas, get the fuck out of there!" Jo's voice was desperate.

"Calm down, Alpha Two, and move to a secure location," Ros exuded calm. "We need to find Ross. He and an unknown caucasian male are suspected of attacking Dijkstra. Steve and Hannah Dijkstra whereabouts unknown."

"Do we know he's here?" Lucas shouted over the screams.

"Visual confirmation via CCTV footage. He's here, Lucas."

Flack-jackets now flooded the streets, shields thrusting into the surge of Britain Unite followers, allowing the panicked civilians to escape as the police became the target of their rage. Another shot rang out and Lucas instinctively ducked as he continued to move, weaving in and out of the mass panic. Jo came on over the Comms, excitement filling her voice, "Ros, Lucas. Have located Steve Dijkstra. On the east side of Main. By the National Bank." A pause. "It looks like Ross is with him."

"Alpha Two, keep suspect in sight until I get there," Lucas ordered. Another two shots cracked the air between the buildings. "Shit!" He burst out, ducking again.

"Ross is armed, I repeat, Ross is armed!" Jo yelled. "Firing into the air!"

Lucas threw himself back into the crowd, his dark head peering over the masses to spot Jo's blonde crop. The blonde's voice came back on over the Comms just as he saw her, only a hundred metres ahead. She had taken out her side arm and was pointing it at Ross. They were yelling at each other, her, a firm order to stand down and drop the weapon, him, a hysterical screech to let him do this. His gun was no longer pointing to the sky, but at Jo. Steve was nowhere to be seen.

"Put it down, Ross!"

"Get the fuck away-" Bobby's panicked words came to a sudden halt as Lucas leapt from the side, controlling his weapon arm and bringing it down. A sharp kidney jab loosened the suspect's grip and a knee to his gut brought him to his knees. Bobby let out a half-groan, half-sob. "No, no! Yer got to let me-"

Jo ripped the gun from his hands and, flicking on the safety, tucked it into the back of her jeans. Immobilising the man from behind with a twist of an arm, Lucas kept him down on his knees while calling in other agents to take him in. Jo snagged the older man's attention by crouching down in front of him.

"Where's Steve Dijkstra? What's he doing?"

"They have him! They have him like they have us!"

"Who, Ross? Who have him? Snow White?" Jo leaned closer. Bobby screwed up his face in conflict and dropped his head.

"Who, Ross!" Lucas growled.

The man raised his head and looked directly at Jo, seeming to come to a decision. But before he could speak, his mouth dropped. "Oh, no," he breathed, his gaze falling on someone behind the woman.

Lucas had no time to react as another shot tore through the air. Bobby's head snapped back, then his whole body slumped forward, just as Lucas felt his right bicep begin to burn. Bobby collapsed on the ground and Jo started forward with a cry.

"Jo!"

Lifting her face from the body, her eyes widened when she realised her partner had been shot. "Lucas! How bad-"

Clutching his arm as the blood began to ooze, Lucas' attention was snagged by the man now lowering his gun. Cold blue eyes met his own before the man turned away, lost in the crowd. All the air Lucas held in his lungs left in a rush, and he had to consciously remember to take a breath.

"Alpha Leader," he spoke into his Comms as if from far away. "Willem Verkerk just shot Bobby Ross."


	12. Chapter 11

**A/N: This is the other half of what I've dubbed the 'Kicking My Arse' chapter. I couldn't leave you guys in suspense for too long...**

**My thankfulness continues to overflow with all the wonderful reviews you guys are leaving for me!**

**And lucky you! A pronunciation AND a meaning!**

**Schatje - (skuch-yah or skut-yah) Darling**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

"Alpha One, will you repeat?" Ros' voice lost it's edge of calm for the first time that day.

Jo stared at the space Lucas was looking at and whipped back to him, "Are you sure?"

"It was him, Ros," he choked out, voice rough. His face had drained of all colour. "Willem Verkerk shot Ross."

"What the hell is he doing here?" Jo whispered. Then she froze. "Lucas. Lucas!" She grabbed the spooks' attention. "We need to find Steve!"

She had a terrible feeling growing about the whole operation. There was something more going on and she didn't know what. Ros came over the Comms again. Steve had been spotted again in the Main Street Arcade, where the majority of the marchers had to pass through to work their way back towards town. Tearing back through the crowd and the police, Jo retraced her steps to the Arcade. Skidding to a halt, she scanned the faces of the hundreds of people there, eyes darting back and forth. Her bright blue eyes then stopped on their target.

"Alpha Leader, I have Steve."

The teenager was spinning a tight circle by the fountain in the centre of the Arcade, as if looking for someone, and clutching the straps of his backpack as if his life depended on it. And maybe it did. Jo paused a few metres away from the boy, "Steve!"

He started and turned to the woman, eyes wide with fear. He began to back away. "Who're you?"

Jo was glad she had put away her weapon. This kid was on edge. Holding up empty hands, she stepped towards him. "I'm a friend, Steve. I'm here to help you."

Steve was quick. "Bobby? Have y'got him?" Then he saw the blood spattering Jo's face and shirt. "Is that- blood?" His eyes widened further and his breathing hitched. "They shot him?" He screamed.

"Steve! Look at me!" Jo demanded. "Steve!"

The boy was taking quick, panicky breaths, clearly on the verge of a panic attack. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit-" He wasn't calming down. At all. The way he was clutching his backpack didn't bode well. Jo persisted in approaching the boy. If she didn't end this quickly, he was in real danger of being taken out by CO19. Ros would have their eyes turned on their new target.

"Steve, please. Give me the backpack."

He looked in horror at her. "No, I can't. I can't!"

"Why not? Tell me," she said soothingly.

"They'll hurt her," he whimpered.

"Who, Steve?"

"Hannah. They'll hurt her, they said!" He cried.

Keeping up her poker face was one of the hardest things she'd ever done, when inside everything just stopped at Steve's words. Then she did something even harder; she lied.

"We have her, Steve. She's with the police now."

The tears running down the teenager's face continued as he gaped at her. "She's safe. Please, give me the backpack."

"Really? S-she's okay?"

"She's fine. Please, Steve." She held out her hand, beckoning with her fingers. He slowly and very carefully slid the straps off his shoulders, and held out the bag to Jo. As soon as the straps touched her fingers, agents descended on the pair. The backpack was passed onto the bomb squad and Steve found himself gripped between two armoured men. A brief touch on her arm alerted her to Lucas' presence, a flash of blood-stained fabric beneath the gouge on his jacket telling her he managed to get at least partially seen to.

"Verkerk?" She asked quickly.

He shook his head. "Lost him. But he can't hide forever."

"Why is he here, Lucas? What's going on?"

"Ruth is working on it now. Anything we can get on him." They began to make their way out of the arcade, the chaos of the previous hour seemingly melting away as the police made arrests and the civilians fled the scene. As they finally came across the Operations Unit, a pacing Ros strode over to them.

"Report," was her terse greeting, as she swept her eyes over the pair, lingering on Lucas' injured arm.

"Ross shot dead by suspect matching the description of Willem Verkerk, Anneke's ex. Steve Dijkstra taken in for questioning. Coercion allegedly involved. Potential bomb threat removed by bomb squad. Hannah Dijkstra missing since this morning, and according to Steve, held by Snow White," Lucas recited, little inflection in his voice.

"And Dijkstra found half beaten to death in his office," Ros added unhappily.

Jo couldn't keep it in any longer. "We've missed something, haven't we?" The other two turned to her, the sick realisation written clearly on their features. Ros suddenly raised her hand to her ear, listening.

"It's a fake," she spoke a few moments later, her face draining of colour. "The backpack had nothing that would do any real damage. It's a decoy."

Jo's brain began ticking over furiously. "Fuck! What have we missed? What-? Lucas, could we have missed something- something Anneke said, anything?"

The tall spook was pacing, subconsciously mimicking Ros' earlier movements. The Section Chief returned to the van she was coordinating the operation from, barking out orders over the Comms. He whirled back, comprehension and horror dawning. "Anneke," he whispered. He took off, long legs eating up the distance.

"Shit," Jo spat, and took off after him.

Ros turned to see her Senior and Junior Case Officers running off as if the devil were on their heels. Her brows snapped together in confusion and she was about to call them over the Comms when Tariq snagged her attention. He had been with her in the van, monitoring CCTV footage for the operation, while also continuing to run other checks related to the Britain Unite case. She prayed he had something. There was nothing she hated more than being caught on the back foot.

"The emails from Snow White, Ros. I know where they're coming from."

Her mouth opened to ask where, then she turned to where Lucas and Jo had disappeared to. Something she hated almost as much as not knowing enough, was knowing too much.

"I think Lucas knows too."

* * *

"Lucas, please! Tell me what's going on!" Jo's voice had taken on a sharp edge as she caught up with him at the black SUV he had procured from the car pool that morning. Lucas could feel the sudden vibration of the phone in his jacket. Wincing a little, he reached with his injured arm and pulled it out, checking the screen before answering.

"Tariq? It was her, wasn't it?"

"I'm afraid so, Lucas."

The confirmation made his stomach tense tighter and he tasted bile at the back of his throat. Swallowing hard, he asked hoarsely, "Where is she?"

Tariq made a frustrated sound. "Her mobile says she's still at the Dijkstra home, but the surveilence team outside their place has seen no movement since this morning. Their last reported sighting of Anneke was around ten am. She walked to the tube. Like she does every morning."

Jo was standing close to him, silent now hearing Lucas' end of the conversation. She looked down, then back up. "I know how to find her."

"How?" Lucas demanded. He could hear Tariq ask the same on the other end of the line. He pulled the phone away from his ear and put the tech on speaker phone.

"What would her priority be, Lucas? More importantly, who?"

He rocked back on his heels in realisation. Tariq became excited. "We find Hannah, we find Anneke. On it." The younger man hung up.

* * *

"Uff-"

Anneke huffed as the smell of mildew irritated her nostrils. Why was she lying on the floor? Shifting her hands beneath her, she began to push herself up, then she realised that her hands were handcuffed in front of her, the cold metal biting into her skin. She couldn't seem to open her eyes and her head...

"Oh, fuck."

They found her.

A door creaked open to her left and sunlight jolted her to try cover her sensitive eyes, but her bound hands caused her to awkwardly flop back to the worn carpet.

"Ah, the princess awakens," proclaimed a deep voice. A voice that always reminded her of smooth whiskey over gravel.

Heart pounding, Anneke made a better effort to haul herself off the floor. A large calloused hand pulled her upright. "Better, schatje?"

Head reeling, she ripped her arm out of his grip, almost losing her footing. "Don't call me that."

"Oh, my little Ani. After all we've been through together?"

Anneke raised her eyes to Willem's and spat, "We have nothing more to say to each other, Willem."

The man threw back his head and laughed, a big booming sound that bounced off the walls of what appeared to be an abandoned office. Everything was big about him, Anneke, despite her height, looked tiny next to him. Something she used to love, but today, today she began to shake.

His amused chuckles stopped abruptly and his voice cooled as he leaned toward her, "We have many things to say to each other, schatje." He began to prowl around her, trailing one large finger up her arm, to her shoulder, around her neck. "First, let's talk about your recent behaviour, hm? This little... tantrum, shall we call it? The lies, the cover-ups, the hacking-" His mouth grazed her ear and she tried to flinch away. His hand tightened on the back of her neck and he growled, "All to get away from me?" He chuckled. "I understand I have had an affair? Me, cheat on you? I would never. You're my only love." As he spoke he caressed her neck, her back, her waist. She stiffened beneath his questing fingers, cold settling in her gut. "All the woman I want is here." He whispered.

She lurched away from him with a cry, but he hauled her back up against his chest, her shoulders dwarfed as he wrapped his arms around her, hands resting on her bound wrists.

"But, I was willing to let you go, Anneke. Breathing space and all that. I knew you'd come here and, well, I have plans for this country."

"I wish you just let me go," she whispered, voice cracking.

"Never, schatje, never." His voice filled with surprise and he squeezed her tighter. "You're too valuable for us, for me, to let you go. Think of all you've achieved so far."

Despite the situation she found herself in, Anneke allowed herself a tiny drop of satisfaction. She had gotten away with it. He doesn't know about MI-5.

"Now, to finish what we started."

She tensed anew. "Willem, please. You know how I feel about this- ah!" His body disappeared from behind her and she was pulled backwards and thrown against a wall. He pinned her in, hands braced on the wall either side of her head, nose brushing hers.

"I _know_," he hissed, "how you leaked all our plans to the authorities after the Storytime incident. Clever little Ani decides she doesn't want to play the game anymore, so she ruins it for everyone."

"It was no game!" She railed, throwing her arms against him to give herself some breathing room. She might as well have been pushing a brick wall. "We murdered children!"

"And now we will murder more!" He bellowed, hot breath hitting her face.

"No!"

"Yes!" His voice became smooth again. "Yes, schatje, you will. Or you will watch us break Hannah."

She gaped at him, her lungs taking in too little air. "What have you done?"

"Nothing. Yet."

Little moans were working her way up her throat, noises she didn't even realise she could make.

"Do your job, Snow White, come home with me, and the only family you have left will be left alone. Agreed?"

She nodded, face turned away from his. He snatched her chin in his fingers and forced her to look at him. "Agreed?"

"Yes, yes!" She whimpered, hating herself.

Willem's cold eyes softened as he gazed down on her. "I missed you, schatje." Then he kissed her. She made a sound of protest, but this didn't deter the man, who just pressed his fingers into her jaw until her lips opened with the pain. He took from her what he wanted, tongue possessing her unresponsive mouth. "Don't let me down." He then kissed the top of her head and left the room, leaving the door open behind him, so confident his hold on her.

Only then did Anneke allow herself the luxury of tears.


	13. Chapter 12

**A/N: My second last chapter! Just the epilogue to go after this.**

**I want to thank everyone who reviewed, followed and favourited this story - you wouldn't believe how much that helped and made me want to make this story even better. Especially as a first time fanfic writer - the support from you all was just amazing!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

Lucas' phone had barely begun to ring before he snatched it out of his pocket, quickly adapting to using his left hand. "Have you found them?"

Jo looked up and rushed over from where she was going through Anneke's bedroom. The Dijkstra's house was being pulled apart for anything that would help them find out what Anneke was doing with Snow White. Agents worked their way quickly from one room to another, leaving a trail of destruction behind them.

Tariq's words came out in a rush. "We traced one of the Britain Unites' cars tagged by the Met to an abandoned office block back in Whitechapel. When we accessed the CCTV, we found her. She was leaving, alone, about an hour ago. But, Lucas, she was looking directly at every camera."

The techie took a breath, "I think she wants us to find her."

* * *

Terry the school bus driver lived by the simple motto, 'If it ain't broke, don't fix it.' His life broke badly years ago when his high-flying career nearly tore apart his young family and left him a stranger to his own wife. So he fixed it. Driving kids around all day will never be seen as the most illustrious of jobs, but it fixed everything. And he now even had time for the grandkids.

Leaving the gates of Salamah College with a full bus load of students for his usual 3.45pm pick up, he almost didn't notice the blonde by the gates, staring at the bus with startling green eyes. He glanced at her briefly, wishing he was still young enough to get away with a roguish grin in the pretty lady's direction, but the trials of London traffic at the start of peak hour claimed his attention.

Only two minutes out of the gates, Terry had his first brush with road rage. The black SUV came baring down on the bus from behind and proceeded to flash lights and swerve dangerously around the bus, only to slam on its breaks as soon as it was in front.

"What the- Jolly Roger!" The driver yelled, years of restraining his language in front of the young students coming into play, as he pulled the bus to a squealing halt. A dark haired man leapt out of the drivers side and a young blonde woman followed quickly from shotgun. Squeals of laughter from the kids quickly turned to a disturbing silence as the man ran up to the door and began pounding on it and bellowing, "Police! Open up!"

Terry was not stupid. "Where's y'credentials?" He bellowed back. The poor kids copped enough flack from normal everyday folk for being Islamic, he was not about to let the police terrorise them too. The man pulled out his ID and pressed it flat to the plastic of the door. Leaning close to read it - Detective Inspector Joseph McCarthy - Terry also noticed the hole in the man's jacket. And what disturbingly looked like a blood-stained bandage under it. He swung the doors open and stepped out, still not willing to let the two cops come near the kids.

The tall man spoke quietly but urgently into his ear, "There's been a terror threat made on this bus." Terry gaped at him.

"Fuck." There was no tempering his language now. "For real?"

The woman was running around the bus, checking underneath the carriage, even at one point crawling on her hands and knees to get under. The man nodded grimly at him. "What do I do?"

"We get the kids off the bus. The school is still walking distance and backup has been called in. The bomb squad is on it's way."

He turned sharply as the woman ran back to them. "There's something there, detective."

"Right," he said. "Let's get them moving."

Terry pulled himself back onto the bus and stood for a second, wondering what the hell he was going to tell these kids. The excitement levels had increased in the bus the longer they were delayed, so the driver gave a sharp whistle to grab their attention. "Righto you lot! The bus has broken down. We're gonna have to leg it back to the school for another bus!"

He winced with a bit of a grin as that just set them off even more. He loved the resilience of the young ones. The students grabbed their bags and, talking excitedly, exited the bus. Terry began herding them back to the school gates when the woman detective grabbed his arm. She held out a phone. "Have you seen this woman at all?" He glanced down at the screen.

"Yeah, she was outside the school gates as we were leaving. Didn't look to happy, mind."

Her lips thinned, "Thank you, sir. The police will meet you further down the road."

* * *

They did it. They found it.

Anneke came to a sharp stop and flattened herself against a tall hedge just out of eyesight of Mark and Wendy. No, Lucas North and Joanna Portman. She didn't resent them holding back their names. She held back quite a bit more from them. She watched as the little ones were shepherded back to the school, relief coursing through her. The feeling was akin to what she felt when she sent the first anonymous message to the Dutch police. When she told them about Snow White.

Of course, turning herself in would have been better, in hindsight. She should have known Willem would have had no trouble tracking her down. They'd been running the organisation together for years, and he was quickly catching up to her level of IT expertise. If she had turned herself in, Willem would have been put away too.

But what she told Lucas the night before was true. She was selfish. She wanted to be able to start again. She wanted the imaginary life she was building for herself in London to be real. She pushed those thoughts away. Maybe this was her chance to make things right. Next time there might not be someone to stop the carnage.

She pushed herself away from the hedge. First thing, she had to get back to Hannah. The woman may hate her now, but she had become the sister Anneke never had, and there was no way she would leave her to the tender mercies of Willem. Her eyes pricked with tears when she recalled her cousin-in-law's face dropping as Anneke was marched in to see her, when Willem announced to Hannah and to Anneke's former Snow White associates how the Dutch woman was going to usher in Snow White's presence in Britain with a bang. Willem had laughed long and loud at his pun, but Hannah just stared with absolute betrayal at Anneke.

Anneke felt more trapped at that moment pressed against Willem's tall frame than Hannah, who was tied to an old wooden chair.

A few blocks away from the bus, she waved down a taxi and gave the driver the name of a street not too far from where Hannah was being held in Whitechapel. As she climbed into the back seat she heard her name called. Her heart skipped a beat when she glanced across the road. Lucas. He was staring at her, mixture of disbelief and frustration dawning in those sky blue eyes. Locking away the regret that threatened to choke her, she turned away.

"Go now, please."

* * *

Anneke arrived at the abandoned building slightly breathless from her careful walk. Why haven't they arrived yet? Surely she was seen enough to to picked up on the cameras. Spinning on the spot in growing agitation she let out a frustrated growl. Where the hell are MI-5? She can't save Hannah on her own.

Her heart stopped as she heard a cry. "Shit!" No time to wait for them now. She ran in through a side door, open and cracked from a solid kick many years ago. Panting now, she spied Greg, one of Willem's sidekicks, pulling a terrified Hannah along by her hair, hands now bound behind her back.

"Greg! Stop! Stop it!" She pushed him away from her cousin, pulling the younger woman behind her. Greg held up his hands in surrender as Anneke glared angrily at him.

"Just following orders, Miss," he protested with a smirk.

"What orders? Hannah wasn't supposed to be harmed!"

Greg's eyes flicked upwards to something behind her, and she quickly turned, still holding Hannah behind her. Willem's voice dominated the airspace. "Not harmed, if you did the job, schatje."

"I did your fucking job, Willem."

He slowly made his way down the wide staircase. More men, Snow White associates, rushed down past him, arms loaded with equipment. Willem, on the other hand, had all the time in the world. He raised a finger and waved it at Anneke, as if she were an errant child.

"Naughty Ani. Have you been talking to the police again?"

Anneke refused to let anything show on her face except disbelief. "What? How could you-"

Willem's face twisted. "Do NOT fuck with me, woman!" He bellowed, the sound echoing through the empty foyer. Anneke flinched, and behind her, Hannah began to cry.

"Shh, shh. Hannah, it's okay," she cooed, and turned to comfort the woman. Hannah at that point must have been so scared that she allowed Anneke to hold her, despite the harsh revelations of earlier. "Here, let me get rid of these." She began fumbling with Hannah's bonds, only to realise they were handcuffs similar to the ones she wore several hours before. "Let me take-"

"No," the gravelly whisper was breathed into her ear. Anneke shrieked in fright, unable to hold it back. She let out another as Willem wrapped his arms tight around her and lifted her off the floor.

"No! Let me go!"

The arms tightened a fraction more and Anneke let out a little wheeze of pain. "Willem, you're hurtin-"

Greg and an older man, Anneke lost his name as her brain shut down for a moment in fright, pulled the crying Hannah roughly to them again. They made her kneel on the cold concrete.

"Willem-"

"Schatje. I'm doing this for us. For what we built together."

"Willem!"

"What we have together is special, wouldn't you all agree? Ten years and a lifetime of love."

"Stop! WILLEM!" Anneke struggled furiously, kicking and scratching and biting, anything to get him to let her go. Hannah looked up at her, her sobs quieter, but tears still running down her face. The older man pulled a gun out of his jacket.

"What are you _doing_? Stop! Don't hurt her!"

He stood behind Hannah, gun lined up to the back of her skull. The older man- Jakob! "Jakob, don't!" Anneke wailed. His eyes flicked to her for a fraction of a second before looking at Willem's face behind her.

"This is for _our_ family, schatje," Willem purred into her ear before Jakob pulled the trigger.

* * *

Jo held on tight to the door handle as Lucas swung the SUV into the old carpark. The radio, tuned into CO19's frequency, sparked to life. "Shot fired at target location. Entering now."

She tightened her jaw and threw open the door as soon as the vehicle slowed to a safer speed, rechecking the straps on her body armour before withdrawing her hand gun and jogging to the office block, Lucas close behind her.

She thought it was the wind at first, but stumbled when she realised the sound was a bloodcurdling wail. Heart racing, she picked up speed and tore through the old building, boots echoing on the bare concrete, looking for the source of the sound. It was Anneke. She was sure. What would make her-

"Oh, no."

Jo's hand flew to cover her mouth as if blocking the sound would make the scene before her less possible.

"Oh, no, no no-"

Lucas took one glance at the gruesome sight before him and froze. Face hardening, he then turned and barked, "The parking garage! Get the team to the basement!"

Shaking off the shock, Jo raced after Lucas. They hurried down the emergency staircase and caught sight of two vans tearing up out of the underground carpark.

The bastards have Anneke. They shot Hannah. They have Anneke. They fucking _shot_ Hannah.

"Go, go, go! Get after them!" Lucas bellowed, waving his arm frantically at the escaping vans, not even wincing as the wound on his arm began to freely bleed again, staining the white gauze.

Jo stared at the retreating vans with a sick feeling that she would never see Anneke again.

* * *

With eyes fixed to the floor of the van, the Dutch woman clinically took note of her injuries. Possible concussion, ripped earlobe, fractured rib, twisted knee, broken toe. She blinked. She saw Hannah, tears falling from-

Multiple bruises and abrasions-

"It's good to have you back, schatje."

Anneke looked up into the cold blue eyes of Willem Verkerk. She pulled her lips back over her teeth in a frightening parody of a smile.

She said nothing.


	14. Epilogue

**A/N: This is it!**

**Thank you so much everyone who has read this! I hope you enjoyed my first wade into the ocean of the Spooks fandom as much as I did.**

**And I'd like to again specially thank everyone who reviewed, you guys helped me out so much and if I could, I'd shout you all a drink!**

**Thanks to: LadyDunla, Antonia Caenis, VelocityGirl1980, Batteredpen, Sparky75, iwandamonian, NavyLady, lexie2 and even the few guest reviewers who popped in. ****You guys are filled with awesomeness and rainbows!**

* * *

**Epilogue**

It was late before Jo made it back to her flat, feet dragging up the porch stairs. Unlocking the front door, she leaned her shoulder into it, giving it a little shove. The door had recently started sticking for reasons unknown. Dumping her bag and jacket on the couch, she wondered into the kitchen and pulled a bottle of white wine out of the fridge and a glass from the cabinet.

As she poured a generous amount into her glass, her hand shook a little, spilling some of the liquid onto the bench. Quickly lowering the bottle, she placed both shaking hands onto the cool surface and leaned into them, as if the pressure would stop the quaking. It was at times like this that she most keenly felt Adam's absence.

Noise, she needed noise. Clutching the stem of her glass, she found the remote on the couch under her bag and flicked on the telly.

_-Returning to the main news of the day, the Marriage Equality March in South London today decended into chaos as the home grown terror group known as Britain Unite flooded the peaceful marchers with violence. One man was shot dead during the riot, and the execution style murder of a woman in Whitechapel has been linked to the main perpetrators behind the attack._

_The Home Secretary's office has not confirmed the alleged link between Britain Unite and Snow White, the terrorist organisation responsible for last year's Storytime Massacre, but have released a statement and photos of suspects still wanted for questioning, Dutch Nationals Willem Verkerk and Anneke van Leeuwen-_

Jo quickly turned the television off. Immediately she jumped as her home phone began to ring. "Shit," she cursed as wine spilled on her hand and moved to place her wine glass on the coffee table. She was going to lose it all before she even had a sip.

"Hello?" She answered on the third ring.

"Jo? It's Ruth."

"Oh, hi," Jo replied, surprised. "Has something happened?" Ruth paused. She could sense her hesitation over the phone. "Ruth?"

"We found Willem Verkerk."

"What- that's great! Where?"

"He's dead, Jo. He was murdered." Ruth suddenly sounded very tired. "Brutally."

Jo stood for a moment, mouth gaping. She snapped her teeth together, then opened her mouth a second time, "Anneke?"

"- is our main suspect," Ruth finished.

Jo rubbed the side of her face with her free hand, absently noting a smear of oil on the backs of her fingers, and wiping them clean on her already dirty jeans. "Why?" She asked in a small voice.

Again the hesitation. "His body was delivered to Thames House with a handwritten note pinned to his shirt. It was addressed to you and Lucas." Ruth took a breath. "Initial analysis of the handwriting is pointing to Anneke. She isn't attempting to hide this."

Jo sat heavily on her couch, finally allowing herself to give in, both physically and mentally. She felt all she had known about the Dutch woman slip away. This wasn't the Anneke she knew anymore.

"She's gone, isn't she Ruth?" She rasped.

Knowing the younger woman was talking about more than just the physical location of Anneke van Leeuwen, Ruth hummed comfortingly over the phone line, "Yes Jo, I'm afraid she is."

**_Fin_**


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